Beautiful Disaster
by Dlvvanzor
Summary: When it becomes apparent that touching the Death Note isn't the only way to regain memories, L must do the impossible to save the one he loves. But with Mello and Near disappearing and an addictive Death Note... LxL, Light POV. Character death. REWRITE.
1. Happiness and Disaster

**Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note. The idea of putting song lyrics at the beginning or the end of the chapter came from RobinRocks/Narroch. Go read their stuff! It's highly epic.**

**A/N: Hello! So... a rewrite. Yep. Gonna go chapter by chapter and rewrite this baby. Hopefully I can find my typos and improve the writing style. I think I'll also add a few chapters later on. However, the story itself won't change! :D Keep in mind that, if you have reviewed a chapter before, it will not let you review again (even if it's removed and reposted). Just in case you planned to leave one, lol.**

**By the way, problems occur when you try to switch from third person to first person. SO. There will probably be some errors at some point.**

**The gist of my original author's note: Wanna try a long fic, two thousand word minimum chapters (might go out the window for the rewrite), eventual lemoning, tiny bits of canon.**

**Edited by Rekhyt!**

* * *

The Death Note

How to Use It

Touching the Death Note is not the only way to regain one's memories of the Note

* * *

I stared at the handcuffs on my wrist. This was stupid. This was a _prime example _of stupid. L was a very intelligent person, so _why_ couldn't the man find a more acceptable method of constantly watching me? Why was camera surveillance good enough for Misa, but not sufficient for _me_? Not that I wanted Misa to be handcuffed to L... the thought made me shudder.

Of course, I wasn't big on being handcuffed to him, either.

I glanced at the detective who, at the moment, was staring at me. What a nice change. Note the sarcasm. He had been staring at me almost constantly since we had been chained together exactly- I checked my watch- four hours, thirty-two minutes, and fourteen... fifteen... sixteen seconds ago.

Not that I was counting.

I had tried to focus on my work, but the raccoon eyes continuously glaring from beside me made any kind of concentration difficult, by which I mean impossible. I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply: a strategy that almost always worked against annoying people. Breathe in. It was okay. Breathe out. I could deal with this.

"Ryuuzaki, may I ask you a question?" I said, forcing my voice to be calm.

"Of course, Light-kun," L replied in his falsely friendly tone, the one only _I_ was able to see through. Asshole.

"How are we supposed to change clothes with these handcuffs on our wrists?"

"I can unchain us for that. But unfortunately, Light-kun, that's the _only_ time."

I think my eyes nearly popped out of my head. "The _bathroom?_" I demanded. I wasn't showering in front of him. It wasn't going to happen.

"Should you need to relieve yourself at some point during this period of time, I will be following you and probably taking the opportunity to do so myself."

"You're sick."

"You're Kira," he fired back.

"I'm not Kira!"

L didn't reply to that, simply bringing his thumb to his bottom lip and staring at his monitor. "Light-kun, take a look at these statistics."

Reluctant to get any closer to the strange creature I was (unfortunately) handcuffed to, I sighed and rolled my chair closer to... _him_.

"What," I said flatly.

"Do you notice anything about the ages of the people whose deaths we suspect are associated with the group?"

I skimmed the small print on the screen, enjoying the feeling of my brain automatically and easily sorting the information, comprehending it, and organizing it more quickly than most people can even read. I pointed out the correlation I saw- the one that only he and I would ever notice because it was too damn obscure.

"Yes, that's what I noticed, too," he said in his flattest voice. I glanced at him sidelong. His large, dark eyes reflected the small square of blue that was the glowing monitor. The darkness of the room washed him out, turning him as white as paper, making his already contrasting hair stand out even more.

I knew that I, however, was probably made only more beautiful by the soft glare- in my experience, it turned my hair darker and made my skin perfectly pale and flawless, my eyes a deeper shade of that indescribable color they are. (Have I mentioned that I'm modest?)

When he tried to turn to stare at me again, he realized how close he was sitting and subtly put a little distance between us for politeness' sake. This was Japan, after all. I took advantage and shifted into the newly evacuated space, allowing myself a better view of the monitor. "What does that imply, beyond what we already know?"

"Nothing."

I drooped. If we couldn't catch this bastard, I would be stuck with Ryuuzaki forever. Or at least for a few more days. Any longer and I would be forced to strangle myself with the chain. No one would blame me and I would be glad to go.

He made a sound that was almost a sigh. "Light-kun, if you would, what time is it?"

I consulted my watch quickly. "Almost two in the morning. Why?"

"Do you not usually go to bed at midnight?"

I blinked at him. How did he know that? I think... yeah, I was definitely bothered that he knew that. "Well... yes... but you don't so I assumed-"

"Just because I have handcuffed you to my person does not mean I wish for you to suffer. I can work just as effectively on a laptop in our room as you sleep. If you do not sleep, you will not function as effectively." He gave me his smallest smile, the one other people thought was cute but I could only see as sarcastic. "After all, we both need to be at our best in order to catch Kira."

I was pretty sure my eye was inwardly twitching. Besides the fact that he was, as usual, subtly calling me Kira, he was telling me to go to bed. I hadn't been told to go to bed in _years_! I was eighteen years old!

"Ryuuzaki, I am not a child."

He just blinked at me. Was I more likely to be Kira if I punched him in the face? "I do not recall saying you were a child."

"You practically established a bedtime for me," I insisted.

"I apologize, Light-kun." For the first time, I kinda bristled at the "-kun" because _now_ I was thinking about the age difference. "That was not my intention. I was attempting to be compassionate. I suppose I am not very good at it, am I."

Stubbornly, I said, "If you intend to work late into the night, then I'll be right here, working with you."

"It's not the same thing, Light-kun," he said in his most annoying patient voice.

"What isn't?"

"Ryuuzaki staying awake all night and Light-kun staying awake all night. I do not deprive myself of sleep by choice."

"So you're an insomniac?"

"One could say that."

"Somniphobic, then?"

"No, Light-kun."

"Then what?"

He didn't reply right away, and the silence in the room became suddenly eerie. Aside from the quiet hum of the multiple computers, there was nothing. During the daytime hours, someone was always walking by, or Matsuda was dropping something, or Aizawa was yelling at Matsuda for dropping something, or we were arguing, or...

It was never silent. Not like this.

Almost as if he had noticed and been disturbed by this (but didn't that imply that he had social consciousness?), L spoke more loudly when he finally answered, "I dislike losing that time, those hours per day that most people devote to unconsciousness. I dislike it to the point that I am oftentimes completely unable to sleep, even when I try. Now, Light-kun, shall we go to bed?"

Huffing, trying not to think about how that was actually a pretty good explanation, I just nodded.

Because he couldn't help but be a freak of nature, he apparently decided that it was completely necessary to stand up at that exact moment without any kind of warning. We had yet to work out the physics involved with being handcuffed to another person, and I was starting to believe that the legends of his genius had been dramatically exaggerated over the years, because for some reason he didn't realize that suddenly pulling on me would result in the chair tipping over and my face being introduced to the floor.

I landed hard on my knee (and my face, and my elbow, and my everything else) and happily lost no time in loudly cussing him out for it. "Damn it, Ryuuzaki!"

Seemingly unconcerned and definitely unapologetic, L trotted the few steps back to me as I crawled out of the chair's clutches, nursing my banged knee, which was radiating waves of red pain. L corrected the chair before helping me, then proceeded to not help me. I wanted to kill him.

"Are you alright, Light-kun?" he asked benignly.

I glared at him, rolling up my pant leg to check on my injury. It was going to be a very nasty bruise and there was a cut down the already blackening center. "Ow!" I accused him.

"It's not bleeding badly," he scolded, as if I was being ridiculous. "Let's get you to our room and clean it up."

_Our _room?

"I bet we have one _bed,_ too," I grumbled.

"Yes, two would be impractical." He nodded to himself. "The chain would cause constant discomfort," he added.

I managed through gritted teeth, "Naturally." Trying to hide my limp, I followed L up the stairs (asshole, there's an _elevator_) and to the room we would tragically be sharing until L was good and ready to realize I wasn't a sociopathic serial killer obsessed with mass genocide.

_At least it was a nice room_, I thought as we entered. It was big enough, inviting and comfortable. The floors were carpeted, which was a nice change from the rest of the building. Maybe L had some kind of _thing _against carpet. Allergies, maybe? A large-ish double bed (which I would have to share with him... Kira, kill me, take my life...) was in the center of the room, headboard against the wall, already made up with (I was willing to concede it) soft-looking bedding. To the right of the bed was a little wooden end table with a drawer in it and a lamp on top, giving the room a warm, human glow that contrasted comfortingly with the computer's mechanical glare. There was a huge window on the wall furthest away from where we were standing that appeared to open like French doors, affording a beautiful view of Tokyo. It had a little ledge upon which one could probably halfway sit if one desired.

The wall across from the bed had two additional doors: a closet and a bathroom. Dammit. Bathroom. We were gonna have to share.

"This one is the bathroom, Light-kun," L directed unnecessarily. "It should have bandages."

L led the way and made it before I did. He already had a Band-Aid open and waiting for me, little paper slips of backing on the counter beside him.

"Sit here," L said, indicating the counter. Restraining the glare I badly wanted to shoot him, I pushed myself up on it and sat, staring at L as he put the bandage on and... _leaned down to kiss it?_

"What are you doing?" I demanded, pulling my knee away, succeeding only in hurting myself more.

L looked up at me blankly through his hair, and then straightened up ("straight" being a relative term- he straightened up into his normal slouch). "Is that not customary? I have never put a bandage on another person before, but I have been told that it is customary to 'kiss it better' once one has done so."

"If it's your _mother_ and you're _four_," I snapped, trying to decide whether or not wiping frantically at my Band-Aid would counteract _feeling his breath on it_ or not.

"I see. I apologize; I was unaware."

He didn't mean it. I knew it. I wanted to start something, but I had to keep the peace with the person I would be spending the rest of forever handcuffed to.

Deep breaths again.

Searching for something to say that_ wasn't_ 'I hate you, you demented freak of nature,' which could be considered impolite, I shot my gaze quickly around the room. Needed inspiration.

There.

"So, did you have all this added in while I was confined? Or was it part of the layout when you had it built? I notice that there are two shower heads in the shower, and two sinks."

L looked absently at the shower. "Oh... yes. It is a recent addition. I had Watari install a second shower head and a second sink in preparation for our rooming together. That is why there is only one toilet, incidentally. He did not have time to put an extra one in."

I was proud of how pleasant I had remained thus far, although my level of pleasant wasn't very pleasant. Diplomatically, I said, "It would look too cluttered with two toilets, anyway."

L nodded blankly in agreement and for a moment we just stared at each other, out of things to say and having no work to change the subject to.

"So..." I started. "I'm going to bed now."

"Very well." L dragged me towards the closet. We were gonna have to talk about that 'let's not warn Light when I'm about to drag him places' thing. "Turn around," he ordered.

I didn't ask, because I didn't want to know. I simply obeyed, figuring it out only when I heard the clink as a cuff loosened and fell to the floor. Then there were cold fingers on my wrist, and the sound of a key turning in a lock, and he was free as well.

For a moment, I wildly considered running. Valuing my life, however, I crushed the notion before it could develop. That would be like admitting I was Kira. Which I wasn't.

"Alright, you may turn back around," I heard L say, bored. He was clenching a little steel key between two fingers.

"You may change your clothes now, Light-kun," L prompted as he removed his own shirt.

I turned around just in time to get an eyeful of the detective.

Well. Didn't see that coming.

* * *

**"You couldn't find two people more**

**Different on the shores of love**

**And wading together is dangerous**

**'Til she grabs you by the wrist**

**Disarms you with a kiss, and you**

**Forget about the angry shadows hanging**

**Round your neck."**

**-Happiness and Disaster, Stabilo**


	2. Difficult to Explain

**Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note. I also do not own the songs at the end of these chapters. **

**A/N: I feel strangely great about rewriting all of this. I dunno. Probably because I've had this whole thing with so many typos, etc, hanging over my head for two years now and I get to fix it at this point!**

**This chapter has a brief portion of L POV.**

**Edited by Rekhyt!**

* * *

L... was...

...the only word for it was...

..._sexy_...

My breath caught in my throat as Ryuuzaki slipped his baggy shirt further up and over his head, his wild hair clinging to the fabric and coming out even wilder. For a moment, I could only stare. When he was standing up straight... L was _built_. Maybe he wasn't necessarily healthy-looking, but compared to what he seemed like he should be... that lean, wiry muscle, the arms whose veins you could kind of see under the skin... the neck that _begged_ to be touched... kissed...

That kind of guy had always been very... distracting to me. Not that I liked guys.

Ryuuzaki ran a surprisingly powerful hand through his hair to remove the now even more disheveled mess from his eyes. I coughed to stifle a soft moan that tried to escape. It was like he was moving in slow motion as his arm came up, as his long, thin fingers extended, as his pale hand disappeared, burying itself in his ebony hair... as he stretched and his cable-strong body flexed, as he inhaled deeply and sighed, even as he returned to his normal slouch...

Now I'd seen him like this. Now I'd be _picturing_ him like this all the time. Even when he had his clothes on, I would still know what he _looks like _under there, and it wouldn't matter if he had a snowsuit on or something. I had now seen him shirtless and there was no going back.

Luckily, he didn't seem to notice me staring, for which I was extremely grateful.

"Light-kun," he said suddenly, making me jump a mile straight into the air.

"Uh... yes?" I replied smoothly, infallible acting ability covering up my agitation entirely. Hopefully.

"As I said, you may take this opportunity to change clothes as well. You certainly don't have to wait for me."

I shook my head, chuckling, trying to make it look like I had zoned out. Ideally, to make it look like I had zoned out thinking about how much I wanted to catch Kira. "Oh. Right. Sorry, I wasn't thinking."

I tried not to look. Really, I did. But L's hands slipped to his jeans, and some part of me- very distinctly _one _part of me- wished they were _my _hands. I managed to partially distract myself by tugging off my shirt when L began to undo his button and his zipper, but I'm really, really brilliant: it takes a lot to fully occupy my mind, and removing a shirt just isn't sufficient.

But I had to look away. I knew I wouldn't be able to see that without developing a problem that would be hard to solve while chained to another person, pun intended. If Ryuuzaki's legs and his... ass region... were as good as his chest and his arms... and his shoulders... and his neck... then... wait... what was I thinking again?

This was bad. This man was going to be the death of me.

Wait! My mind came to a screeching halt. This "man"? This was a _guy_. This wasn't a problem! I was straight, so of course this wasn't an issue at all. I'd even slept with a few guys in the past to make sure, and I wasn't interested. No, Light Yagami was _not_ going to get a boner about this. No way. None. Nope.

I quickly stripped to my boxers (carefully maneuvering my slacks around my Band-Aid to avoid ripping it off) and forced myself not to look at the other man, who was just lingering there, all but naked, for no reason I could discern. The other man who was, in fact, a _man_, and therefore not my type. Because I don't like men. Because they have penises. Because I'm straight.

That being said, it was still prudent to hurriedly struggle into my pajamas.

I definitely didn't sneak another look at L, who was now putting on a different pair of jeans and a different but identical shirt. How many of those shirts did he _have,_ anyway? I strained for a peek into his closet and, as it turned out, he had about a dozen of them. While I was happily minding L's business, he snapped the handcuffs back on my wrist and my cock gave a painful twitch. That wasn't fair. Bondage at a time like this?

He glanced at me out of the corner of his wide, dark eyes. "Light-kun? Is there a problem?"

"Oh... no. I'm just... tired," I lied lamely. Tired was the _last_ thing I felt at the moment.

This was a _disaster_.

I crawled into bed, lying on my stomach (ow...) to prevent anything from tenting or otherwise selling me out. I realized too late that this left L in a very awkward spot. The way I was laying, the chain didn't lend him enough leeway to walk around the bed to his own side. He didn't seem to mind, though, simply crawling over me. Normally, this wouldn't have been a problem. Today, however, it was, and naturally his legs brushed against me as he settled into the bed, sitting up against the headboard, his pillow cushioning his back from the hard wood. (Haha, hard wood.) He brought out his computer, but my head was still spinning from the brief and entirely accidental contact.

This was completely ridiculous. What was I, some sex-starved, hormonal teenager? Hormonal teenager, maybe. But sex-starved? Hardly! I had Japan's top-fucking-model all over me at every hour of the day, _begging_ me to throw her to the floor and have my way with her. Which I _had_! Multiple times!

This calmed me down a bit. Yes, I had plenty of experience. This was nothing. Psssh. It was all just because I was over-tired... residual physical stress from having been confined for fifty days... that was absolutely the reason I had been attracted to L for a moment there. But I had since regained my sanity and realized the absurdity of that attraction. No, I did not want to fuck L's brains out.

The fantasy in question- no, not the fantasy, the demented freak of nature!- shifted and suddenly the chain felt like it was breaking my arm. I rolled over to relieve the pain and was presented with a new one very abruptly. As fate would have it, because L was actually sitting like a normal person, his crotch ended up right in my face.

Not. Fair.

I quickly moved my arm to relieve the pain that would otherwise occur when I rolled back onto my stomach. It was uncomfortable to lay on... my friend... but discomfort was definitely preferable to being caught hard in bed with another guy.

Now that I wasn't looking at the deceptively sexy detective, I was able to regain control for real. I forced my mind to other thoughts, relaxing one part of my body at a time until I was a lump, something I'd learned to do from a book somewhere. I had control of myself. And this situation. _And my traitorous body_. And when I woke up tomorrow all thoughts of anything even resembling this would be completely gone. No excuses.

* * *

L heard Light's breathing slow down and even out, and he knew the younger male was asleep.

He had absolutely never seen the person next to him so calm, even when viewing him in confinement. Composed, yes, but Light was always moving, thinking, calculating. Much like himself. Was that what _he_ looked like when _he_ was asleep? Quiet, peaceful? So obviously not Kira that it almost _increased_ his percentage?

When he slept, Light was so... what was the word? _Beautiful_.

Only a strong dose of his incredible self-control prevented L from reaching out to touch Light's perfectly groomed hair and brush it out of his eyes. He watched in fascination as the young man's chest rose and fell steadily. Of course, L had seen the boy sleep before. He had observed him constantly over the course of his confinement, and obviously Light had spent much of that time sleeping, having nothing better to do. For some reason, though, this was different. Light was stunningly, breathtakingly _alive_ as he lay next to him; warm and organic. As someone who passed most of his days surrounded by computers and people not nearly up to his level of intelligence, this amount of contact with a living human being- a living human being who was his _equal_, no less- was intoxicating. Watari was by no means an imbecile, and he was a good friend, but he wasn't Light Yagami. _No one_ was Light Yagami.

The urge to touch him was overpowering. Moving his laptop to the side to protect it from harm, L crunched his body up into his normal crouch and stared at Light with what appeared to be his blankest expression. He was probably in his REM cycle by now, judging by how long he had been asleep, and would most likely not awaken if L were to touch him, as long as he did so carefully. It would be safe...

L reached out and placed a finger on the flawless skin of Light's cheek. Light was warm against L's perpetually cold skin, and L drew back quickly, worried that he'd have to explain himself if Light woke up.

But the feel of his skin under his fingers was irresistible- L could not deny himself one more touch. Just one more touch. Forbidden fruit and all that.

He reached out again, hesitantly, and ran the back of his fingers slowly, lightly down Light's jaw line. It was so perfect. It was like touching a god, an idea to which L did not, of course, subscribe. He was so soft. He imagined him to be as soft as a woman, not that L had any experience with _anyone_, let alone a woman, so he wouldn't _really_ know. But he had read a romance novel for research once, and then there was his hobby, and anyway the point stood.

To L's relief, Light did not stir.

Alright, that was enough. He kind of wanted to _taste_ him now, to see if he tasted like cake or like chocolate or... like... whatever it was people tasted like... but that would definitely be going too far. Plus, it would be unexplainable if the teenager did wake up to find him _licking_ him. He wouldn't be pleased, undoubtedly.

L sighed and shifted back to how he had been sitting with his laptop, bringing it out and setting it on his lap again. The glow of the screen felt cold now, as much as L loved computers. It really should be Light's head on his lap...

Where had _that_ thought come from?

* * *

My heart was beating fast.

I'd always been a light sleeper. I usually woke up at least five times a night just from normal sounds of things existing around me. Needless to say, any sound directed at me would wake me up immediately, and an actual touch was as good as an alarm clock.

So I woke up when I realized that someone was touching my cheek. I immediately recognized the cold fingers from when the handcuffs had been temporarily removed, so I forced myself to remain still. There must have been a bug on my face or something that L decided to brush off. Why else would he be _stroking_ me as I sleep? Maybe this was just like the Band-Aid incident? L was, after all, somewhat socially crippled.

But then he had touched me again, and there was no denying that _that_ one had been a caress. It was gentle, it was almost... tender? I tried not to shudder when the cool fingers contacted an area that, really, people don't often touch on each other. Who touches your face?

Should I "wake up" and call him on it? That would probably only lead to my Kira percentage somehow rising. Besides... it kind of felt good.

L didn't touch me again, and eventually I slipped back into unconsciousness.

* * *

**"I could stay awake just to hear you breathing,**

**Watch you smile while you are sleeping**, **while you're far away and dreaming.**

**I could spend my life in this sweet surrender."**

**-Don't Want to Miss a Thing, Aerosmith**


	3. Fun with Sexual Tension

**Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note.**

**Warnings: Lemon, yaoi, but not what you're thinking (unless you've already read it).**

**For those who didn't read this the first time around, I feel like I should emphasize the fact that this is a tragedy. No fair getting mad at me later. –Grin-**

**Edited by Rekhyt!**

* * *

I woke up the next morning to find the se- I mean... se... seriously disgusting detective (yes!) typing quietly but with his usual inhuman speed and proficiency.

All his attention was on whatever he was doing, the defined features of his face completely and perfectly concentrated. I watched those fingers for a moment, captivated by their speed and deftness. They were long and thin, which of course I'd noticed the night before, but I'd never stopped to really consider their agility. I could touch those fingers... those fingers could touch me... trail down my neck and over the rest of my body, caressing my skin... my back leaving the bed as I-

Wait! I wasn't going to think like that today! Dammit, the best laid plans of mice and men...

I needed to distract myself. How had I distracted myself from that guy in my math class in high school?

...I had fucked him. Right. Next plan.

So I took a shot at conversation. "What are you doing?" I asked pleasantly, sitting up and glancing at the document displayed on the laptop. To my surprise, L jumped about a mile, slamming his computer shut and putting a hand on it protectively.

"Nothing," he said boredly, as if he hadn't just had an unexpected but admittedly minor spaz attack. "Good morning, Light-kun. Shall we get to work?"

"If you were in the middle of something, don't let me stop you," I said, trying to sound sincere. That's right, Light, be nice to the freakazoid you're handcuffed to. Polite conversation is always good.

L paused a moment, as if to consider what he had been writing. "I was not working, Light-kun. I try to rest my mind for about an hour every other night or so. I was writing in my leisure."

He had the Percentage look in his eyes. Right now he was thinking: There is a ninety-five percent chance that Light will ask him what he was writing about. It was a relief that, for once, the Percentage Calculation face had nothing to do with me possibly being Kira. ...Probably.

Knowing how much he liked to be right (because, after all, so did I), I decided to indulge him. "What do you write about?"

"I do not wish to discuss it," he replied shortly.

His curtness caught me off-guard. Sure, L wasn't _always _polite, but I found that most of the time he took a stab at it.

"Can I read it, then? I'm guessing it's a mystery novel, in which case I would _love_ to try to solve it."

"Well..."

Oh, it wasn't a mystery novel, L, now was it? If he hadn't said anything at all, I might have been able to drop it. But now... I stared him down, making it clear that I wasn't going to relent.

Stand-off.

Finally, after a very intense two minutes of silence, he shrugged and passed over the computer. I was _handcuffed_ to him, after all, making it illogical to try to keep secrets from me.

I smiled, trying to be nice despite all the awkward and the fact that he was extremely sexy shirtless, and booted up the computer.

"Oh, it's in English," I commented politely.

_He threw his head back, his spine arching in desire, as the bigger man tongued his left nipple. "K-Kyosato..."_

_A deep chuckle rumbled out of the dominating man. He loved it when Daniel screamed. It was without a doubt his favorite sound. And he wanted to hear more of it. Slowly, erotically, Kyosato moved up to Daniel's lips, kissing him deeply, edging his teeth apart with his tongue. He pressed into him, exploring, tasting him, discovering nothing he didn't already know and love but relishing the touch anyway. He could feel Daniel's hardness against his thigh and he moved his knee there in response to it, pushing gently but firmly against the throbbing erection he-_ he-_had caused in this person he loved._

_Daniel, so quick to express himself, was gasping and writhing beneath him, sweat erupting in pearls on his skin, dripping down his small, wiry body, tracing every curve of his muscles. Kyosato dragged his fingers over Daniel's trembling frame, all the way to his hips, then stopped on the gently protruding bone. Purely to tantalize him, he touched Daniel's penis lightly on its head and the younger man moaned._

_Kyosato smirked and removed his hands. He kissed Daniel on the lips._

_"Don't... don't tease me..." Daniel panted._

_Kyosato only kissed his nose and slipped down to his lips again._

_Daniel's reaction was... disproportionate, Kyosato thought. Usually a kiss, at least on the lips, wouldn't elicit the long, shuddering moan Daniel was currently emitting._

_He soon discovered the truth. Daniel was playing with himself, twisting and writhing, moaning Kyosato's name. Kyosato almost came at the sight and managed to restrain himself only with extreme effort. "N...now who's the t-tease...?" he managed to gasp._

_Daniel smiled his beautiful smile and removed his hands from himself. The older man kissed right below his ear. "Turn over," he breathed._

_Daniel gasped, but this time it was in fear. "But..." he whispered._

_"But what?"_

_"But we've never done it that way before..."_

_Kyosato held his face and kissed him hard. "Daniel. I want you so much. I... I don't even have the _words_ for it. I love you and I..." his voice faded._

_"I love you, too," Daniel murmured._

_"Then... _please_... I'm _begging _you. Please..." He really was begging. Daniel could hear the desperation in his voice. And he knew that Kyosato wouldn't force it if he, Daniel, said no, but..._

_"Will it... hurt much?" he asked in a small voice._

_"No. No, I promise. It will hurt a little bit at first, but it will feel good soon after. I promise I won't hurt you for real."_

_Daniel looked into his lover's eyes and saw only truth and love._

_And then Daniel's whole mannerism changed. He sucked Kyosato's earlobe into his mouth and rolled it between his teeth. "Get up," he whispered hotly, sensually._

_Kyosato stumbled to his feet, off the bed. Daniel turned his body until he lay on his stomach. He spread his legs and reached for Kyosato's hand, taking two of his fingers into his mouth, soaking them with his saliva, using the same motions he used when he gave Kyosato a blowjob and making sure the other male noticed the similarity._

_He removed his mouth and said breathily, looking Kyosato straight in the eyes, "Fuck me."_

_Kyosato-_

I'm pretty sure my eyes were wide as saucers when I finished reading the last, uncompleted sentence. I looked from the story to the author, who was staring innocently at the ceiling and chewing on his thumbnail. I glanced down at myself and, sure enough, there was a definite bulge there. I casually checked L and found what might have been one, but the baggy pants made it impossible to be sure.

"So..." I started, and abruptly ran out of ideas about how to finish the sentence.

L finally looked at me.

"So," I tried again, "In his free time, L writes yaoi- I mean... gay erotica..."

"Sometimes," he said, voice carefully neutral. "I have other hobbies as well."

"Is that so." I could only image. Porn _videos_, maybe? "Well, I think it was pretty well written, I have to say."

"Thank you, Light-kun," L said monotonously. "Shall we get to work now?"

I almost blushed, but of course, being myself, did no such thing. "Okay, yeah. No problem. Let me take a quick shower and I'll be right behind you."

L raised his cuffed hand.

"Oh." Only a night and a morning of continuous sexual arousal could have made me forget that. Which, actually, is a little strange, considering that the thing I forgot was _handcuffs_. "Right. Well, can I just have a minute then?"

"I'm afraid, Light-kun, that I will have to be with you in the shower."

Normally that wouldn't have been a problem. Normally I would have huffed a long-suffering sigh and given in to the inevitable with only a well-worded but mild and half-hearted protest. Then again, I didn't normally have a hard on from reading gay porn written by the man who would be showering with me.

I decided to try for honesty. Or the cousin of honesty. "Ryuuzaki, I _really_ don't want you in there with me," I said, letting my discomfort work its way into my voice.

L's wide eyes focused on me, and for a moment my mind went blank. Only for a moment. "So that you can murder criminals without me watching?"

I now questioned my sanity. There was no way this man could have written something so hot that it, despite being gay (which I'm not), had made me hard. "Ryuuzaki, have you ever slept with a man?"

L tilted his head, his mess of hair flopping to one side but not as much as it should have, thereby proving that L is above physics as he is above every other law. "Oh, is that what concerns you? You are apprehensive, because of what I wrote, that I may in fact be homosexual, and therefore you would be uneasy showering with me."

I reminded him, "That's not exactly what I asked."

"I have never had sexual relations with a man, Light-kun. Shall we proceed with the shower?" He peered at me. "Or is that not the problem? Perhaps..."

L suddenly squatted down into his odd crouch, blatantly examining an area that I didn't want the world's three greatest detectives to know anything about.

Or maybe I did. Seeing him at that level, his thumb in his mouth, only added to my problem. I jerked a step backwards and this overbalanced the man, who, of course, promptly fell _into_ the problem area.

I took another step back. Thankfully, even L realized this was a socially awkward situation and scrambled to his feet. "Pardon me, Light-kun," he said sincerely.

"No problem," I said. Actually, I croaked it. But I _meant_ to just _say_ it.

"Yes. Well, if it eases your mind at all, this experience has not been in vain. I have come to a conclusion."

It hadn't even been twenty-four hours with this man and already I had felt both the urge to kill him and the urge to fuck him. Not in that order. "Yes, Ryuuzaki?" I enunciated.

"The reason you do not wish me to see you shower, or to shower alongside you, is because you were sexually stimulated by the short fiction you read a few moments ago."

Stupid, porn-writing super-genius. I could always _lie_... but was there even a point?

I shrugged. "What if I was? Does it matter?"

"No."

I closed my eyes and took a deep, calming breath. "Fine. I'm taking a shower. Join me if you want."

L nodded absently and unlocked the handcuffs just long enough for both of us to take our shirts off, and then snapped them back on.

Apparently L is really serious about the handcuffs. I mean, I know I'm awesome, but do we really have to spend 24/7 together? Does he really think we'll be able to do it without killing each other? Maybe that's his plan: be so annoying that I kill him in his sleep, and he's already left instructions behind for others to take that as proof that I'm Kira.

I was now in only my underwear. I thought about feeling awkward, but so many people had seen me this way that it didn't really make a difference at this point. I shrugged inwardly and stripped.

...It was remarkable. Apparently even L is human. I could see how hard he was trying not to stare, but even _he_ couldn't prevent himself from glancing. I was at full-salute, after all, and beyond adequate. Maybe he had never seen someone like me in real life. If so, he must have done it on purpose... he could have kings or queens or nobles or anyone in the world with the snap of his fingers.

Apparently L had not had kings or queens or nobles. Because he was just as excited as I was.

I pretended not to notice, stepping into the shower and doing my best to keep my eyes off of him as he did the same. It wasn't easy. Although we had separate shower heads, we were not really that far apart and there was absolutely nothing between us. I forced the most obvious solution to L's "problem" from my mind- namely, to drop to my knees and suck him like a damn lollipop.

Now he was wet. If he was sexy shirtless, then he was even sexier naked, and he was even _sexier_ wet _and_ naked. His hair was plastered to his head, giving him the appearance of a drenched puppy. But then there was his body, which totally removed that image from my mind and made me just want to jump him and have it over with.

Luckily, the puppy in question thought of something to talk about. "Light-kun, how did you know the term 'yaoi'?"

Not the best time to talk about this. Especially as he was soaping himself up, essentially rubbing his hands all over his wet, naked...

"Uh, well, my sister is into it. She's got books everywhere and stuff. She kept talking about it like it was a codeword so I looked it up online and... well... it wasn't hard to figure out when dozens of pictures popped up."

"I see," L said.

"How'd you learn to write like that, Ryuuzaki?"

"The same way anyone innocent of sexual behavior learns to write stories of that nature. One part previous reading and three parts intuition," L answered, looking utterly bored to death as he squeezed shampoo into his hand.

I was right- he _hadn't _had kings and queens and nobles. Yes. I'm _so_ good. Also, I am possibly the first naked person The Great and Powerful L has seen in real life.

However, I was distracted by the lucky shampoo bottle, and I swallowed pretty hard. And to make sure I was correct: "Ryuuzaki, did you just say that you're a virgin?"

"I did," the detective replied.

"Aren't you-"

"Twenty-five years old, correct," L filled in for me.

"Twenty-five years, and you haven't found _anyone_ willing to sleep with you?"

L looked- possibly- a little smug. "I assure you, Light-kun, I have received offers. Monarchs and presidents and police and criminals."

"And you never found someone you liked?"

He shrugged. "Not particularly. I find sex unnecessary, Light-kun."

"But if you found someone who interested you, and they were to offer, would you turn them down?"

L almost smiled. "Probably not."

With a self-satisfied smirk, I stuck my hair under my personal shower head and began to rinse out the shampoo. So, was he saying that he wouldn't turn me down if I offered? If one day I caught his interest? He could be introduced to the delights of sex in the shower. That was some pretty damn fun stuff, after all.

Except that I'm straight. However, this was The Omnipresent and Omnipotent L. Even _I_, in my infinite straightness, wouldn't turn down _that_ potential notch on my bedpost.

The shower was over, sadly, and neither of our problems had been fixed.

I didn't know about L, but I wanted to take care of it. However, I didn't want to do it in front of him. Since it was unlikely that the man would be leaving me alone in the foreseeable future... or, more accurately, since there was no way in _hell_ the man would be leaving me alone in the foreseeable future... there were really only two options.

1. I could deal with it all day (because this wasn't going to go away on its own, not after that shower) and walk around with a tent in my pants in a room full of men, including my father, who were sure to notice something so obvious, all while being completely unable to focus or

2. I could jerk off in front of The Great and Powerful L.

Neither choice was desirable or even _tolerable_, but they were the only options I could come up with. Ouch. 'Come up.' Bad choice of words.

Well, actually, there was one other option... but that was even more awkward than masturbating in front of the world's three greatest detectives. Blowjobs may be fun, but nothing was worth that level of embarrassment.

"So... um..." I started.

L looked at me with those big, dark eyes again. He really needed to stop doing that. "What is it, Light-kun?'

I glanced pointedly at L's crotch, then at my own, hoping that he would get the picture. "We can't go out there like this."

"That is certainly true," L said firmly. "I have not established a dress code for the task force, but I believe it is understood that we are to be clothed at all times."

I forced away an image of a naked Mogi walking heavily by before it could burn itself permanently into my retinas by speaking quickly. "I meant the erections, Ryuuzaki."

L looked down. As _if_ it wasn't the only thing on his mind at the moment.

"Oh. I see. Well, I doubt anyone will go out of their way to point them out."

"True, but..." Well, it _was_ true. Everyone thought I was a lot straighter than I (apparently) actually was, and they thought (knew?) that Ryuuzaki was asexual, so really, if we both walked around with erections, no one would be disturbed or guess that we had caused them in each other. In my case, especially with Misa running around. "You're right," I finally concluded. I could always just try to hide it. I didn't have to sing about it, after all. Maybe I could publicly encourage my girlfriend a little bit and get her to rub up on me.

We got dressed quickly and headed down the long steel stairs to the kitchen for breakfast.

* * *

**"Are there silver shores in paradise? Can I come in from the cold?**

**I killed a man in a faraway land- my enemy, I'm told.**

**I really want you to really want me, but I really don't know if you can do that.**

**I know you want to know what's right but I know it's so hard for you to do that.**

**And time's running out as often it does, and often dictates that you can't do that.**

**But fate can't break this feeling inside that's burning up through my veins.**

**I really want you."**

**-I Really Want You, James Blunt**

* * *

**And yes, L actually wrote that PWP.**


	4. Blame the Cake

**Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note.**

* * *

L, I was not surprised to discover, did not eat normal things for breakfast. He provided normal things for the rest of us, of course, but he never got near them himself. So while I shuffled through a cabinet for some health cereal (pushing aside the various obligatory sugar cereals), the sexy detective rifled through the refrigerator and came out with... a whole cake.

I stopped dead and stared at him. Trying not to sound _entirely _bitchy, I said, "Are you really going to eat that entire cake?"

"Not immediately, no," L said, not removing his eyes from the cheerful-looking pastry.

"Then why did you take out the whole cake? Don't you usually keep several individual slices next to an unsliced cake?" I kind of wished I didn't know that.

"There are no pieces there this morning. Only the whole cake."

He just looked bewildered. Maybe he didn't know where the knives were kept. Figuring I may as well be helpful, I reached around and removed a long knife out of a knife block. When I offered it to him, the bastard flinched.

"I'm not going to _stab_ you, Ryuuzaki," I said crossly.

"It is simply a reflex, Light-kun, I assure you."

"Sure."

L accepted the knife, holding it gingerly between his thumb and forefinger, as usual. It would certainly be interesting to see how he could cut things this way.

Except he didn't. He just kept staring at the cake, knife unused in his hand.

Finally, the potential problem occurred to me. But no, surely...

"Don't tell me you don't know how to do this."

L flinched again. I was right. "Of course I know how," he said curtly. "It is not complicated, Light-kun, and I am certain that I have the mental capacity to grasp the concept even if it were."

I felt my smirk widen. "Oh, really? Then why aren't you cutting it?"

L cocked his head, but he still didn't take his eyes off the cake. "It is... not one of my strong points. The things I cut often fall apart. Normally this would not be of concern to me, but in this particular situation we are dealing with cake, of which, as you know, I am incredibly fond."

If the man weren't a genius, no one would put up with his quirks.

Incidentally, 'quirky' was far too nice a word for him. The phrase my brain usually provided me with was much less polite.

For whatever reason, though, as much as I rolled my eyes, it didn't actually bother me to take the knife from the _fully grown man_ and cut the cake for him. Maybe it was the way he kept materializing on the other side of me, darting back and forth, watching me cut from every angle possible. Maybe it was the way he crouched on the floor at the end of the counter across from me, so that I could only see his huge, endless eyes and the top of his head as he gazed at his beloved treat some more. Maybe it was how he suddenly sprang to his feet and fetched a stack of plates. More likely, it was the way he was just being all-around adorable about the whole affair. Whatever the reason, though, I didn't mind, and I kind of enjoyed it.

It was here that my OCD served me well. I cut up the whole cake, and made every slice perfect and equal. Perhaps because of this, L was actually _bouncing_ a little by the time I finished, and I couldn't help but laugh at him.

"Can I have a piece now, Light-kun?" he asked in his childish voice, staring at one of my perfectly proportioned slices of the white-frosted confection.

I picked up the plate L was eyeing (not that any of them were different, but maybe it mattered to him?) and the man's gaze followed. "Here you go, Ryuuzaki," I chuckled.

His face lit up and he took the plate reverently. "Thank you, Light-kun," he said solemnly.

I smiled, my heart doing some kind of flopping motion. "No problem."

Because L was busy with his cake (and because he just looked so darned adorable), I put the rest of the slices back for him and took the opportunity to paw through the refrigerator for anything I would actually classify as food. Eventually I had to give up and settle for the instant oatmeal I had spotted in the cabinet earlier.

By the time I sat down across from L with my steaming bowl, L had demolished his first slice and was already on his second. Clearly he was able to operate a refrigerator on his own. The thought make me want to vomit (the second slice at breakfast, not the fact that L can operate a refrigerator), but if something as simple as well-sliced cake could make L _this_ happy...

He glanced at my oatmeal, munching away. "The granulated sugar is over there, Light-kun," he informed me, pointing.

I glanced automatically where he had indicated and then returned my attention to my food. "I don't want to sweeten my oatmeal."

L stared. "But... Light-kun... I can smell it. It is unsweetened."

"I'm not overly fond of sweet things, Ryuuzaki."

"I see," he replied after a moment. "Watari is that way as well," L mused, taking another bite of cake. "No matter how many times I offer him cake, he turns it down. Odd."

I shrugged. "A lot of people are like that. Anyway, it's really not that bad. You should try eating something without sugar, sometime."

He tilted his head thoughtfully. "It's virtually impossible to find food that does not contain sugar, Light-kun. Even what you are eating contains maltose."

"You know what I mean, Ryuuzaki."

He considered this, then conceded. "I suppose you're right. And perhaps I _should_ sample something that is not sweet."

Was I about to witness The Great and Powerful L eating something that wasn't laden with table sugar? I spooned a small taste of my (admittedly) cardboard-oatmeal. "Do you want to try it?"

I watched as he hesitated, part of me doubting that he would take me up on the offer, but eventually he nodded. I held the spoon out to the hunched-over older man. Instead of _taking_ the spoon like most people would from something who isn't a close friend, L climbed up onto the table and leaned in to eat it off the extended spoon.

Again, I thought, he was being too adorable for his own good. He had moments that I was sure would warm the heart of even Kira himself, not that I'm Kira. And of course, his lips wrapping around the spoon- his tongue and lips that were talented from all that ice cream, all those lollipops, and licking the frosting off of doughnuts- was reminding me of an issue I still had and my previous, internally proposed solution.

He sat back in his chair (crouched back onto his chair) and almost twitched, making the face I had seen once when he had forgotten to add sugar cubes to his coffee before drinking it.

"I take it you don't like it," I observed pleasantly.

"As usual, Light Yagami cannot be fooled," he grumbled, taking a large bite of just the frosting part of the cake with an almost-angry 'nom' sound to make up for the oatmeal.

"Well, I'm still glad you tried it. It's good to try new things."

Trying to ignore that double entendre, we finished our breakfast in silence.

L was watching me eat, cringing at my unsweetened oatmeal but also seeming fascinated by something. Had trying a bite of something not sweet made him lose his mind and become fascinated with people eating? More importantly, was there oatmeal on my face? How embarrassing would it be to go out to the main investigation room with a lingering hard on and oatmeal on my face? That's Light Yagami, the boy who gets _way _too excited about oatmeal.

Worried that my drifting thoughts might be showing on my face (and right now I was picturing him doing extremely naughty things to me), I tried to focus on eating. Then I noticed how dirty eating off a spoon was. I mean really. Just because there were some common motions between eating off a spoon and...

Actually, this was really not the time to think about it. Breakfast? Come now.

Damn. Bad choice of words, _again. _

The moment I was done, L jumped to his feet and dragged me by the chain to the investigation area. No one else was there yet because it was still stupidly early in the morning. In the past, I would have said that it was impossible for me to successfully eat breakfast at like two in the morning, but apparently I can do it.

L sat right down, forcing me after him.

It was a long day but I couldn't focus, and as a result I got absolutely nothing done. I wrote a few pointless but very long emails as the other taskforce members arrived, Googled a few statistics about recent heart attacks, and dug deeper into the dustiest, most obscure corners of the internet for any rambling, useless Kira website we hadn't come across yet. I discovered that someone in the United States had made a MySpace for the serial killer (how quaint), and that he had 542,117 friends, including that guy who was automatically everyone's friend. For lack of anything better to do, I decided to point this out to L. L ignored me and I sighed, and somehow, eventually, to my immense relief, the day actually ended.

As people were staring to go home for the day, Matsuda stood up. "Everyone! I have an announcement to make!"

Aizawa covered his face with his hands and groaned. "Really, Matsuda?"

Matsuda's smile faded a bit, but he would not be silenced. He held something up, a DVD case, apparently, and across the front was written something in English. "I want us all to watch this movie." I tilted my head to read it at the angle at which he held it, but L, quicker with English for obvious reasons, read it aloud first.

"Matsuda-san, isn't it in poor taste for the Kira Investigation Team to be watching Texas Chainsaw Massacre?" he said monotonously.

There was a moment of awkward silence.

Maybe I could use this to fuck with L. That would be fun, and it might even release some of the tension in my shoulders that has been giving me pain lately. So I said, "I don't know, Ryuuzaki, I would kind of like to see it. I mean, you can keep working if you want. We can just drag a TV over here."

I could feel L's ice cold glare on the back of my neck and I almost chuckled. He hated to be the bad guy. Made him feel too much like who he thought I was.

"That's the spirit, Light! What about you guys?" Matsuda asked, unsurprisingly oblivious to the temperature of the room, addressing Aizawa, Mogi, Misa, and my father.

Aizawa spoke for all of them. "Not interested. Have fun."

Matsuda sighed and drooped. "Alright. Well... see you tomorrow, then."

The hopeful expression Matsuda gave L as the older men left had the desired effect, and my amusement level was rapidly rising. L looked longingly at his computers for a moment longer, then sighed slightly, his shoulders falling a good inch, and focused his attention on Matsuda.

"Very well, we will watch the movie."

Matsuda's bright smile lit up the room, and I stifled laughter as L inwardly resigned to what he knew was inevitable.

* * *

_*Chainsaw sounds*_

_*Screams*_

_*Maniacal laughter*_

My plan had backfired a little, but just a little. In my eagerness to annoy L, it hadn't really sunken in that _I _would have to watch the movie, as well. The three of us watched as a man with a chainsaw hooked a shrieking woman up on a meat hook. Matsuda clutched a plushie of Misa close to him (I wondered if I was socially obligated to make a stink about that), openly shaking, watching with huge eyes as the cannibal onscreen began to hack at a body. Japanese subtitles flashed across the screen, but Matsuda clearly wasn't reading them anymore, too horrified by the, well, massacre.

L and I, however, were nowhere near as frightened. Also, to my dismay, he didn't seem nearly as annoyed as I was hoping he'd be.

"The dialogue and the subtitles disagree," L mumbled quietly to me.

"What, you can't follow?" I said, raising a perfectly plucked eyebrow. I frowned when blood splattered across the room in the movie. "Arterial splatter isn't that powerful," I added to L's criticism under my breath.

"I am perfectly capable, Light-kun, I just do not appreciate the discrepancy. And you are correct about the arterial spray."

We watched with mild interest and amusement as the movie played on.

"That is impossible," L commented in a whisper.

I chuckled quietly, dampening the sound with a hand over my mouth so as not to distract from Matsuda's "enjoyment" of the movie.

"This whole thing is ridiculous, Ryuuzaki. We're just going to have to accept that or we'll drive ourselves insane pointing out everything that's wrong."

A very small, mischievous smile touched L's lips and I had to resist the urge to touch them too. "But it's fun."

"True."

Needless to say, no detail got past us.

When the movie finally came to an end, Matsuda was left on the couch, limp with exhaustion from fear. We would probably have to listen to Matsuda complain about being scared for _days_ now... but at least it had inconvenienced L, even if it hadn't really annoyed him. Plus, it had been kind of fun.

"Guys... I'm going to bed," Matsuda said weakly. He hefted himself off of the couch and stumbled in the direction of the stairs that would lead him closest to his room, jumping a mile straight into the air then breaking into a run when I cleared my throat.

"We should probably follow him, Light-kun," L said boredly. "It is quite late."

Within ten minutes of that statement, we were in our bed, and L was actually lying next to me.

"Are you intending to sleep tonight, Ryuuzaki?" I asked, honestly curious. I had never seen the detective prone before, and it was interesting. He lay like a normal person, making it the only thing I had ever seen him do normally.

"I will most likely not be sleeping. I find it comfortable to lie down from time to time. Is that so unreasonable?"

"No," I replied. "I was just asking."

"Oh."

I turned over to my side, away from L, trying to ignore the gentle clink of the chain between us. I closed my eyes. The moment I did, images from the movie flashed unbidden through my mind. My eyes shot back open.

Apparently I had jumped, because L's voice sounded from nearby. "Light-kun?"

"I just flashed back to the movie. Nothing to worry about."

"Unrealistic as it may have been, it was intended to disturb its audience and I find that so far it has been successful. I have been thinking about it as well."

"Yeah."

I closed my eyes again, forcing the violent fictional deaths out of my mind. I replaced them with the first thing that popped into their place... Unfortunately the first thing that popped there was Naked Ryuuzaki, which was very counterproductive to sleep. I forced that thought out too and the next thing my brain supplied me with was the Kira case. That was always good. Just focus on (Ryuuzaki's arms) catching the serial killer that apparently agreed exactly with my own morals.

Agreed exactly. Agreed (Ryuuzaki's skin) to the point where it was almost scary how similar we were. If I was Kira...

Yes, I would (Ryuuzaki's ass) do it precisely the way Kira was doing it. Killing criminals and those who deserved to die.

But there was a difference. I would never allow myself to gain the reputation of a god. No, that just complicated things. And (Ryuuzaki's fingers) it was, I knew, exactly what made Kira wrong, even when I agreed with what he was doing. L (Ryuuzaki!), me, and Kira all had the same end goal in mind: a world free of crime and where the weak could live safely. L (who really had a nice body) and I, however, didn't believe we had the right to kill to achieve it.

But did the ends justify the means?

Yes.

But still, any nobility in Kira's mission was voided by the God complex he seemed to have... (Ryuuzaki. Ryuuzaki. Ryuuzaki. Ryuuzaki.)

I was almost asleep when a tremendously loud sound ripped through the air, sending me flying straight up and whipping towards L, who did the same thing at the same time, and flung my arms around the nearest entity, screaming "CHAINSAW!" in unison with someone else. I felt arms around me, too, and swung my head around, terrified, desperate to pinpoint the location of the cannibal who had clearly broken into our room and was now going to kill us and then slice us to pieces and then eat us and then...

My senses quickly returned to me. I relaxed, although I didn't let go of whatever I was holding. "Oh. It's the generator downstairs. I never noticed how much it sounds like a chainsaw," I chuckled nervously.

Who, as I was now aware, was the 'thing' that I was holding and that was holding me.

After a moment, I heard L say tightly, "I have come to the same conclusion."

"I thought we were smarter than this. How old _are_ we? We're not children. We shouldn't have been frightened by a movie."

"If I may, Light-kun, you smell excellent."

That one brought the sexual tension back. We were _still_ holding each other, and really quite tightly, our faces pressed together cheek to cheek. This was the closest I'd ever been to the man. My already racing heart picked up a bit more.

"You do, too," I observed. He smelled like laundry detergent. Strange. I would have expected him to stink. But really, since I had _more_ than seen that he showers...

Awkward. Silence.

"I'm hungry," I lied suddenly, releasing him quickly and jumping out of bed. "Why don't we go downstairs and get something to eat? That should distract us from the sound of the generator."

"Good idea, Light-kun," L agreed monotonously.

This time I led, and didn't stop until we were in front of the refrigerator. "Cake, I assume?" It wasn't actually a question, and I already had a plate halfway out of the fridge.

L gave his 'justice will prevail' smile. "Naturally."

The urge for sweets struck me, as sometimes it does, especially after trauma. "I'll have some as well," I mused.

L stared at me as I passed him a plate of the cake I'd sliced earlier, and especially as I took one for myself. He didn't even look away when I sat down across from him and began to eat it.

* * *

L shuddered as he watched Light slide the pastry off the fork with his teeth.

Light was eating cake. This didn't happen often. No, not often at all. He felt his pants getting tighter, when he had barely recovered from earlier today. But... Light was eating cake. Light, who was already dangerously attractive, and who was his primary suspect for Kira, was actually consuming cake. Right in front of him. He didn't even normally eat sweets, and then he just jumps right to the best sweet of all- cake- with no warning or time for L to prepare to deal with it?

So sexy.

No, primary suspect.

Might as well be Kira.

Of course, he didn't have _proof_ of that, or any reason to believe it other than his gut, so could he really be blamed if...?

"Ryuuzaki?" Light asked carefully. "Are you alright? You haven't touched your cake, which is unusual for you."

He had frosting on his lip. The man. Had frosting. On his lip.

L began to sweat. He would really have to either get new pants or go on a diet, or at least think more, because his previously loose jeans were now cutting him in half and it seemed like they had been doing that a lot lately, especially since meeting Light. Maybe being around Light caused him to eat more because of stress. Stress could change your metabolism and-

"Ryuuzaki?"

Light noticed the frosting on his lip and removed it with a finger, licking the finger to get the coagulated sugar out of the way.

L moaned quietly.

Kira. Kira. Kira Kira Kira. Kira. The one who kills people. The serial killer who it's your job to catch. And this is probably that very serial killer.

Light put down his fork and looked at him more closely, honestly concerned now. "Ryuuzaki, what's wrong? Why are you staring at me? Not that I'm not used to you staring at me, but..."

Kira. Kira Kira Kira. Kira. Ki-

"Ryuuzaki?"

L sprang.

* * *

**"I broke apart my insides.**

**(Help me...)**

**I've got no soul to tell.**

**(Help me...)**

**The only thing that works for me...**

**Help me get away from myself.**

**I wanna fuck you like an animal.**

**I wanna feel you from the inside.**

**I wanna fuck you like an animal.**

**My whole existence is flawed.**

**You get me closer to God.**

**You can have my isolation.**

**You can have the hate that it brings.**

**You can have my absence of faith,**

**You can have my everything."**

**-Closer, Nine Inch Nails**


	5. Black Notebooks

**Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note. **

* * *

I didn't even have time to yelp before I found myself back-to-floor, pinned between the back of the chair and the world's three greatest detectives. He was straddling me, his knees over my waist, a hand on either side of my head.

Strangely, the only thing I thought to say was, "Did you just jump over the-" and then I was thinking and saying nothing, because my lips were firmly covered by L's.

Wow.

_Wow_.

Um...

For a moment, I didn't even know what to do. This wasn't the first time someone had jumped over a table and gotten on top of me, of course, and it wasn't even the first time a guy had done it. But this time it was someone who was actually...

But L's mouth insisted, and it wasn't long before my instincts and my suppressed desire took over. For someone who had probably never kissed anyone, he seemed to know what he was doing. Must have been all the gay porn.

It was a hard, fast, demanding kiss, and it wasn't long before I noticed L's tongue running over my teeth, asking for admittance. I tried to think "Ah, why the heck not," but what my brain actually gave me was "Pleasepleasepleaseplease_please_" so I allowed it and L dived in, exploring me with surprising efficiency. He tasted like cake.

He shuddered, probably having never been this close to another human being before, and I couldn't help but moan slightly into his mouth. He pressed closer to me, then I felt him freeze and draw back quickly, gasping in a breath. Well, breathing while necking _was_ a mechanic that took a while to master. He paused only long enough to suck in some air before coming at me again.

I was prepared this time, and I had significantly more experience than probably anyone else who had ever been in this building, including the married people. With a smirk, I grabbed L by the hair and pulled him down into me, twisting my fingers into the dark mess, completely disallowing him movement. I felt a ghost of a chuckle from the man on top of me and smiled into the kiss, breaking it for a moment to change the direction of the proceedings in a way that only I really could, in a way that had worked for me so many times before on so many other people.

His arms quivered and nearly gave out when I disentangled my fingers from his hair and brought the tips lightly, slowly down over his face, feeling every curve and plane. I traced over his eyes, down his nose, down his cheeks, and rested for a moment on his lips before continuing over his jaw line and to his neck.

My specialty, as L was about to find out.

I was certain that only the fact that I was directly under him kept L from letting his body collapse when my lips met the very center of his throat. He groaned and I kissed even lighter, moving along to the side of his neck where, vampire-like, I bit him very, very gently. L actually whimpered, and the sound did something to me that I would rather not admit, but I made sure that the only thing L knew was that Light Yagami was kissing his throat, and now his clavicle, and now the side of his neck, and now a feather's touch to his lips, and then back along his collar bone...

The detective threw his head back and I smirked again. "You seem to have jumped me," I whispered hotly against the damp skin.

He shivered and nodded.

"What were you planning in relation to that?" I asked slowly, seductively. He was probably just now noticing how sexy my voice could be. And it could be _very _sexy.

"S-something of the..." he forced out, "Kyo... Kyosato/Daniel var- variety."

I kissed his neck again, sucking lightly. "Right here? On the kitchen floor? Sounds good to me."

Okay, so, I'm not actually straight.

"Nngh..." Even a genius's thoughts could be scrambled. I'm that good.

To be fair, though, I wasn't doing so well either. It was interesting: I had never actually been unable to think before. Sure, I'd had a few times where I couldn't _focus_ as well as I would have liked to, but my thoughts had never been this scattered before. In fact, it was amazing that I had managed to maintain _this_ train of thought for so lo-

_Ryuuzaki._

Never mind.

"Our room. Don't want to get caught," he managed.

He scrambled to his feet, helping me up after him, and then together we proceeded as quickly as humanly possible to our bedroom.

By this time, there was no stopping us. I threw L bodily onto the bed the second our door was closed behind us. L landed with a slight 'oof,' but I didn't give him time to protest. I knew he wouldn't, anyway, and as I shoved my hand into his pocket and retrieved the handcuff key, his eyes went wide. I silenced him with a kiss. "I'm not Kira."

For once, he actually relaxed, and he allowed the handcuffs to be removed. I was at the point where my clothes were starting to try to kill me, so I tore my shirt off as quickly as I could without actually tearing it, prompting L to do the same. When his shirt was off as well, I reattached the handcuffs and gave L the key back.

He frowned at the key for a minute, then slipped it into his pocket, giving his head a small, quick shake. Not caring to analyze that at the moment, I pushed him back down again and climbed on top of him. My hands flew to his zipper of their own accord and I undressed him, trying to work around him doing the same to me.

Then we were together, we were naked, and the situation involved handcuffs.

"Carpe corpum," L murmured.

"Seize the body," I echoed. "Well put."

"Thank you."

I started right at the neck this time, kissing down L's sternum, down his probably-too-skinny torso, down his abdominals...

His eyes went wide and he grabbed my hair, but I didn't make the jump I had been implying. I moved back up to his face and resumed my attention to his lips.

L, gasping, let a hand fling out over the side of the bed. I naturally assumed that he was just enjoying the moment, but then I noticed that he was fiddling with the drawer of the end table. He removed his hand, holding something, and fumbled it to me.

"What's this?" I paused to look at the object while L ran his fingers down my chest and even lower, making it really hard to focus enough to figure out what the object was. I gasped when his fingers met their ultimate goal, but managed to force my eyes down to the little bottle of... no, it couldn't be what it felt like. _L_ wouldn't have something like...

"Lubricant. Ryuuzaki, when did you buy this?" I demanded, trying to sound indignant. Under the circumstances, now that Ryuuzaki was _rubbing_, it was understandable that I didn't succeed.

"Watari bought it upon my request. One must prepare for every eventuality."

My eyes practically popped out of my head. "_Watari_ bought you _lube_?"

L shrugged. "He will know what is going on anyway, and I do not wish for either of us to be injured."

Watari. Old man. Mustache. Lubricant. Buying it at a store. Traumatized store clerk.

On the other hand, it would make this a great deal more pleasant with a lot less bleeding.

Which was always good.

L squeezed my dick gently, and I remembered full-force why we were here. ...Where had he learned to do that?

I had both of us prepared in short order. I looked at him, L, who was wincing already, breathing hard, hair damp with sweat, his face showing more emotion than I had ever seen it, even though it was very nearly blank, and it was _beautiful_.

I had been with virgins before, so I knew how to go gently into that dark night. However, this felt different. Much more significant. This wasn't some random guy or girl who was giving it up to me on the first date because I was bored and had decided to seduce them. This was the only person I had ever actually been interested in... arguably from the first moment I heard his name, inarguably from the first moment we met.

And now we were here.

"You okay?" I asked quietly, and I actually cared.

He didn't blink. "Yes."

"Alright," I said, and I entered.

L gasped and I sighed, and our bodies moved together at the early hour of the morning, sweating, panting, whispering things to each other that didn't even make sense; detective and suspect, L and Kira, him and me, and our world stopped dead in its tracks as what wasn't supposed to happen, did, right there in our room.

When we came, together, I let myself fall next to him, dropping my head right over his heart, listening to its frenzied rhythm until it calmed, and I knew my heart had calmed, too. L wrapped his arms around me where I lay.

I closed my eyes.

* * *

Light shortly fell asleep to the sound of that heart.

L didn't. At least, not for a while.

He lay still, holding Light, and could not help but stare as he had _years_ ago that were in truth only hours.

Beautiful.

Of course, not only physically, although he certainly was that, more than anyone L had ever seen, and he'd seen people from all over.

His idealism and his optimism and his determination and his brilliance and his seriousness and his charisma and...

_Achingly_ beautiful.

He was everything that Kira would need to have, and be, and L had seen people from all over, but he had never met a single person who possessed each of these things to the degree to which Light possessed them

_No_, L could only think. _Not him. Of anyone in the world, not him. Please. Anyone but him_. _Watari._ _**Me**_._ Anyone._

He fell asleep with those words repeating over and over in his head until they became something that was almost, _almost_ a prayer.

* * *

_There are people falling dead to the ground, everywhere, everywhere. There's blood on his hands; it won't come off. Bodies with twisted grimaces, leering at him, piled all around him, stacked so high he can't see where the towers end, and the towers make a tunnel, and at the end of the tunnel is only blackness, nothingness, and there's a scream, somebody's screaming. No, thousands of people are screaming. And... somehow... how did he recognize all those voices? A eidetic memory can be Hell itself when you're trying to forget the names and faces of thousands of people you've killed._

_One of the towers is leaning haphazardly, he looks at it, alarmed, terror creeping onto his features, and as he opens his mouth to scream, they fall, and oh oh they're torn open and their intestines are hanging out close your mouth but you can't you're still screaming and they fall on you and you're trapped beneath them and you can't breathe and they're crushing you and you'll never escape, you'll never escape-_

I shot straight up with a scream the likes of which I didn't know I was capable. Before I knew it, L was bolt upright too, taking my hands, speaking quietly, lowly, soothingly. "Light-kun, it was just a nightmare. It's okay. It's okay, Light-kun."

He watched me as I slowly calmed down enough to remember where I was, who I was, and what a 'nightmare' was. I looked at him with wide, frightened eyes. "It was a nightmare?" I begged. I heard my voice and I sounded like a child.

"Yes," L assured me. "I am one hundred percent certain."

I fell backwards and threw my arm over my eye. If L could ever be one hundred percent certain about something, it _had_ to be true.

L lowered himself after me and removed my arm from my face, the better to look at me. "Light-kun," he said. "May I ask what you dreamed?" He touched my face gently with the backs of his fingers, and I leaned into the touch despite myself and turned my head until I could kiss the fingers.

L removed his fingers and replaced them with his lips for a tender, chaste kiss.

Something flashed through my mind when he did it. Shaking away a lingering image of a black notebook falling from the sky, being watched through a window by some faceless person, I finally managed to murmur, "Just a nightmare. Bodies, and they fell on me... and... It was just a nightmare. But it was... like a nightmare that... _he_ would have. Kira."

L gently disentangled us. "Come," he said kindly. "Some breakfast. I imagine that you do not wish to go back to sleep, and that you are hungry from last night's activities."

Then the awkward settled right back in.

"Um... yeah," I mumbled.

"Do not worry. I shall not speak of this to anyone but Watari."

Again with the Watari. "Do you _have_ to talk to Watari about it?"

L worried his bottom lip with his index finger, pondering. "Yes, I do," he finally answered. "I apologize, Light-kun. I know it is not ideal to you."

I massaged my temples. Nothing like an annoying detective to distract you from nightmares. I sighed, resigned, and realized that, one way or the other, I'd have to be physically there when L informed the old man of our activities. I stood up reluctantly. "Ryuuzaki? That was... incredible, don't get me wrong, but-"

"Our unprofessional actions must not be repeated? I agree completely."

Apparently there was one thing in this world that L and I agreed on. I tried not to be disappointed by the thought that it wouldn't happen again.

But I still couldn't escape the image of that notebook.

* * *

**"Past the point of no return-**

**No backward glances:**

**The games we've played 'till now are at an end."**

**-The Point of No Return, The Phantom of the Opera**

* * *

**A/N: Yay, plot!**


	6. Totally Not Obvious

**Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note or Lean Cuisine.**

**A/N: This is fun. I have the day off, so I'm using it to do research and also to rewrite this. I do an article and write the report, then edit a chapter, then do another article, then edit another chapter. Good times.**

**Also, I can **_**not**_** resist making Light like this. It's far too much fun.**

* * *

"Ryuuzaki. I really think they know."

I suspected- no, damn it, I _knew_, that everyone on the task force was staring at us. Had we been very loud? Maybe Matsuda had heard us going at it and told everyone. It sounded like something he would do. And the idiot _did_ seem to be smiling at the moment.

Of course, he was usually smiling.

But he kept _looking _at us!

That really could just be because we sit under the clock.

I was more aware of the handcuffs on my wrist than I had ever been before. L must have switched them out during the night or something, because this chain was way too short and weighed about twenty-five pounds.

To top it all off, every time Watari walked by, I nearly had a cardiac episode. Okay, so that was in bad taste, with Kira and all. Regardless, I went stiff as a board every time the lubricant-buying and much too well-informed old man walked into the room. Surely, Ryuuzaki would know not to shout it across the room to him? The man was a genius. Of course he would know not to.

Mogi was staring now, too. Was there something on my face? Was there- I almost moaned in horror- was there something_ incriminating_ on my face? I scratched at my nose casually and looked at my pristinely organized desk space to calm myself down. I was imagining things. They would have no way of knowing. And even if they did, would it really matter? I mean...

I looked at _L's_ desk, the polar opposite of my own. I had always believed that one can tell a lot about a person from their desk. For example, one could learn from mine that I'm nearly fanatical about organization, if not a full-blow obsessive compulsive. Nothing is ever so much as crooked, and with a chain constantly dragging over everything and catching on things and sending them flying, that's really quite a feat. I have always taken pride in my desk.

But _L's_ desk. The man had pens lying everywhere, bits of paper crumbled up, and cake crumbs that I had often found clinging to the back of files and other important documents. I would be forced to hang myself if I ever allowed my own desk to descend into madness such as that. It was simply unacceptable.

And it only accentuated the reasons we shouldn't repeat last night's activities; gave all our differences a tangible, physical representation. No matter how I had felt about him in the moment before I had... you know... and no matter that the face he'd made as we came had taken my breath away.

I tried to remind myself why I should be disgusted.

Okay. Here we go.

I had _slept _with this person? What could have possessed me to even _touch_ such a slob? His pens weren't even grouped by color! How did he expect to get the color he needed when he reached for a pen? What if he, God forbid, got _blue_ when he needed black?

But touched him I most certainly had. Try nailing him into the mattress. I'd done it. Willingly.

A shudder crawled up my spine at the memory of one particular sound L had made the night before, and I had to remind myself again that it was irrefutably a shudder of disgust.

I restrained from barking something rude at the innocent Matsuda, instead turning to my lover. I mean my ex-lover! No, wait, there had to be a better term. My one night stand. My friend with one-time-not-to-ever-be-repeated-benefits?

There just weren't enough words in any of the languages I knew.

"Ryuuzaki, I mean it. I know they're not, but it's like they're staring at us."

L didn't glance up, still typing away at his impossible speeds. "I feel that way too. Perhaps it is because you are intermittedly looking distant, and because I am unable to sit as I normally do without very distracting pain. In conjunction, these two facts could prove to be somewhat suspicious."

...I _knew_ the man looked shorter. He was sitting properly, his feet _actually_ on the ground.

It was weird.

But I had caused it, and that certainly didn't hurt my already enormous ego.

Forcing that pride out of my mind- because it wasn't going to happen again- I whispered to L, "Well? What should we do about it?"

Dah. That word. 'We.'

L considered for a moment, and then he spun around in his chair and addressed the rest of the room. "Everyone, I would like to make an announcement. Light-kun and I had hot, sweet sexual intercourse last night."

Coffee nearly exploded out of my mouth. Only my experience with the life-giving beverage and my generally high pain tolerance allowed me to remain in control of the steaming liquid I had just accidentally gulped. It seared my mouth and I swallowed it to prevent further damage to the sensitive tissue of my palate. Agony.

But even more, _awkwardness._

The room was silent for a moment.

Dead silent, except for the loud humming of multiple computers.

"That is all," L concluded, and spun around again, the wheels on his chair clicking gently as they rotated, to return his attention to his computer.

Mogi- dear, sweet, consistent, steady, reliable, wonderful, _amazing_ Mogi, to whom I was now forever devoted- burst out laughing. With that, the rest of the force laughed too.

Matsuda wiped a tear from his eye. "Wow, Ryuuzaki, you really had me going for a minute there. But seriously, _you two_? That would never happen." He grinned.

Pretending I hadn't just almost spurted coffee across every surface in the room, I chuckled as well. "He's right, Ryuuzaki. That was funny, but I really don't have any desire to sleep with you. We're such different people that it would never work. Besides, I don't think we would ever be able to come to an agreement on who would be dominant."

"My thoughts exactly, Light-kun," he agreed pleasantly over his shoulder.

Matsuda giggled. "Good one, L. I never knew you were one for jokes."

"I thought it would be appropriate to lighten the mood."

Soichiro cut in quickly with- "Can we please focus on the case?" His clipped tone, coupled with the fact that he was Soichiro-frikin-Yagami, immediately subdued everyone.

He gave me a long, significant look, and then went back to highlighting the stack of papers he was in charge of, his lines straight, narrow, and somehow honest just because it was him that drew them.

Great. My all-knowing father had figured it out. He _knew_ me too well! At least in some very limited ways. And now I was going to get lectured about it, probably, or maybe he would just let me sweat under the Significant Look forever, just _waiting_ for a lecture that would never come.

Under the circumstances, I hoped I'd just be left to sweat it out. That was one talk I didn't want to have.

As was apparently becoming my habit when I didn't know what else to do, I checked my email. Some spam, some mail from Misa. Nothing important.

I stole a glance at my-that is, _the_- slob sitting next to me.

I must have been imagining it, but... was he...

He looked... actually upset.

Quietly, though, and I doubted that most people would have noticed it. We hadn't been handcuffed long, but constant contact, let alone "hot, sweet sexual intercourse" with a person, could teach you to read them. Yes, his lips were curved ever so gently down, his brow _slightly_ furrowed.

I looked at the clock. It was ten forty-five. That was _almost_ a justifiable time. I stood abruptly, and the movement jerked L's arm. "Lunch, Ryuuzaki."

He stared at me, bewildered. "Light-kun, it is only ten forty-five."

I shrugged. "I'm hungry. You make me eat breakfast at like 3 AM. And since when do you turn down food?"

"I could ask Watari to bring out something for you to..." he let his voice trail off as he realized that I was glaring at him, and finally realized that I wasn't interested in actual lunch. He sighed, mostly as a cover. "Very well."

He saved and minimized the pages he had on-screen, following me to the infamous kitchen where things had started. Fun things.

I carefully closed the door behind us. "What's wrong with you?" I demanded.

L groaned. Yes, L, I had noticed. Of course I had noticed.

He tilted his head to the left and pulled at his bottom lip innocently. "Nothing."

"You're lying," I informed him.

"Perhaps. I have been known to do so in the past."

I rolled my eyes and leaned back against a counter, both elbows propped up. "Look, Ryuuzaki," I said gently. "We're going to be spending a lot of time together, because I know as well as you do that you're not going to stop suspecting me of being Kira any time soon. Which is not because I'm Kira. My _point_ is we can't hide things like this from each other. We have to communicate."

L shifted his weight. "Why should we? The handcuffs are not an attempt at bonding."

My face twitched, and L bit his lip.

"If you will allow me to rephrase," he said uncomfortably. "I did not conjoin us at the wrist in order to strengthen our relationship in any way. In fact, I would view any personal attachment as detrimental to the integrity of the investigation."

"I can tell you're upset, and I can't just sit next to you and pretend I don't see it. No one else is going to be able to tell, so if _I_ don't ask you about it, no one will. Besides, we're friends, aren't we?"

L _had_ said that...

He looked at me, leaning there casually, confidence and OCD radiating from my every pore. He was the only person I had ever met- _ever_- who could hold my gaze.

Everyone else looked away, but L never did.

"If you insist," he mumbled finally. Then he changed his mind, but he had already started speaking and it was too late. Annoyed with himself for having a reaction that wasn't based solely on logic, he answered the question. "I am aware that you said what you said to distract Matsuda from the truth, but I must confess, Light-kun, that my feelings were rather hurt." He looked away, apparently very interested in the wall immediately next to me. There was nothing interesting about that wall.

Impossible. L had feelings? I knew he had something resembling emotions, but he actually had _feelings _that could be hurt?

Well, why the hell wouldn't he? He was human, and I had proven that. Oh and _how_ I had proven it. I shuddered for the tenth time that day at the memory. And it was a shudder of disgust, of course, as it had been every other time.

Definitely a shudder of disgust.

"Oh," I finally managed. "You... really?"

He shrugged. "Shall we return to work? We may want to bring lunch out with us so that our true motives are not questioned."

I silently went along with it, not even really paying attention to what I was grabbing. I wasn't hungry, but I did feel _something_ in my gut. What _was_ that, anyway? It felt squishy, but in a bad way, in the miniscule spaces between my stomach and my lower intestine. Less squishy and more like... compression? What _was _that?

It was familiar, and I let my mind wander back to the last time I had felt it. I couldn't _remember_, per se, but I sensed that I had felt it... almost like _déjà vu_.

"Ryuuzaki," I frowned, "Déjà vu results from having forgotten something, but later experiencing something similar to that event, correct?"

L poked his head out from around the refrigerator door. "Hm? Well, other hypotheses include brief flashes of memory of dreams, and some people believe it is a glimpse into what 'could have been' or into a past life, but since it is difficult to reproduce in a laboratory setting, yes, that is the most widely accepted theory," L said absently. He went back to shuffling through the freezer.

My frown only deepened. Things you had forgotten. Dreams?

That struck a chord. I stared at a crumb (of, predictably, cake) that was on a counter.

That was it. It was what I'd felt during that dream, and when I had seen that whatever-it-was (dream? flashback?) of a notebook falling. Fear, yes, definitely. Revulsion at having bodies falling on me, at the taste of their blood. But also an overwhelming sense of what I was feeling now.

What _was _that?

...Was that... _guilt_?

Um... whoa. That wasn't possible. I was borderline sociopathic and I knew it: I had almost no conscience (I had morals, but those weren't the same thing- if I broke them, I never felt _guilty_), and I had more than a lot of trouble actually caring about individual people. I couldn't stand being bored, and I'd sometimes do crazy things to alleviate it. So it was unheard of that I would be feeling guilty about _hurting someone's feelings_.

"Hmm," I said, because I had to say something.

L peeked at me again. "Light-kun?"

I shook my head, normally at first, and then more gradually. "I'm... sorry," I said slowly.

L raised one eyebrow. "My feelings, like everyone else's, have been hurt before, Light-kun. I assure you, I will survive."

The feeling went away.

Weird. As. Hell.

...Why was _L_ the only one who had ever made me feel guilt?

It was a disturbing thought, so I shook it off. "Got your lunch?"

L produced a plate with cake on it. "Yes."

For the first time, I looked at the food that was in my hands. Lean Cuisine? Oh, and I had apparently already heated it up. That was convenient.

"Alright... let's go out there then," I struggled.

L nodded. "Very well. After you."

* * *

**"Judging by the look on the organ grinder, he'll judge me by the fact that my face don't fit.**

**It's touching that the monkey sits on my shoulder... he's waiting for the day when he gets me. **

**But I won't be your concubine - I'm a puppet not a whore,**

**I just need this stage to be seen.**

**Will you be a friend of mine to remind me what is real?**

**Hold my heart and see that it bleeds.**

**'Cause I'm out of my mind."**

**-Out of My Mind, James Blunt**


	7. Amusing Discomfort

**Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note.**

* * *

I was still uncomfortable from my sudden flirtation with introspection a few hours ago, but at least now I was able to focus as I compared statistics of different companies. My organized desk was soothing as was, I have to admit, the fact that L was shoving cake into his mouth. It was familiar, and I welcomed it.

It was still disgusting, of course.

And just because he kept licking frosting off his fingers and I kept noticing did _not_ mean I wanted to sleep with him again. No way. That would be even more disgusting. I mean, look at him.

My eyes wandered over to the pastry-munching slob next to me. The arrogant, hermit-like, sloppy, hunched over freak that I had absolutely no interest in seemed to somehow know that I was looking at him, and he slid his eyes in my direction without turning his head. He didn't say anything, returning promptly to his work.

He didn't lick frosting off his fingers anymore after that. I kind of missed it.

I caught him staring at me once or twice (or thirteen times) too, probably trying to find some little action that would prove beyond a doubt that I'm Kira. Well, he wasn't going to find one, because I _still_ wasn't Kira.

Right?

I mean... just because Kira's ideals are exactly like mine... just because I could see myself doing what he's doing... doesn't mean...

Stupid. I couldn't think like that or I'd start to believe it, and since L could practically read my mind, if I believed it, he would too. No, there was no way I was Kira. If I had dissociative identity disorder, I'd notice lapses in time when my other personalities took over. If I was sleepwalking, L would have already caught me.

That dream.

I guess the fact that I was horrified by that dream proves I'm not Kira.

I doubt a mass-murderer would have a problem with blood.

I shook my head to clear it and ordered my brain to change the subject. It was unfortunate that the subject I would be changing it to was Kira, but there was nothing I could do about it. I picked at my Lean Cuisine, wishing it wasn't Butternut Squash. It was too sweet. Maybe L would like it.

...why do all roads lead back to L?

Frustrated, I shoved myself back from my desk and stood. He looked up at me with those wide, dark, all-seeing eyes and said nothing. He knew, as he always did, that he didn't need to; knew that I'd elaborate without his prompting. "I'm going for a walk. You coming?"

"Really, Light-kun. Lunch was only a few hours ago. Can you already be restless?"

"Yes. Come with me or I'll drag you."

I watched as L considered protesting, which we both knew would lead to a physical fight, and I couldn't help but smirk as he winced slightly at the thought of having to use his legs. He glanced at me quickly to see if I had noticed and I let him see my expression. I raised an eyebrow in a challenge.

I won: he stood up without another word and followed me.

We walked in silence. What could we say after the day we'd had? Sleeping together, determining to not let it happen again, announcing it to the room to stop suspicion from ever arising that we actually _had_, and _me_ discovering an emotion that I hadn't known I was capable of.

"Light-kun," he said abruptly. He turned his beautiful, dark eyes on me. I held his gaze, drawn in by those eyes, repelled too, unable to get closer but unwilling to pull away. I felt myself leaning towards him. For what purpose, I couldn't imagine, but I was stuck in those eyes, bottomless, entrancing, _L's_. The kind of eyes that made you long for their attention but want to get away from it the moment you acquired it. Those eyes could see into you. They could probably see more into you than you knew was even there to _see_.

I was pretty sure that wouldn't be changing- that hypnotism- even if I saw those eyes every day for the rest of my life.

My heart immediately started pounding at the sound of his voice which, I was now noticing, was very smooth and deep. "Yes?" I managed.

"LIIIIIIGHT!" A distinctly feminine- and distinctly annoying- voice rent the air, and soon a small blond form followed it. Misa flung herself at me as she always did, nearly knocking me over. I caught her only to stop myself from falling, but of course she incorrectly interpreted that as affection, and she snuggled right into me. She was babbling about something but as usual I wasn't listening.

I wasn't big on PDA, but Misa seemed to love mauling me in public almost as much as she loved me in general, and since I was for some unimaginable reason _dating _this person, I got dragged into PDA city, Japan. I patted her awkwardly, wishing she would unlatch herself. I tried to push her off gently, but the girl is a lot stronger than she looks and she held right on.

I sent L a pleading look and received a very small smile in return. "Don't mind me, Light-kun," he said when Misa finally stopped talking for a moment and took a breath (she had the lung capacity of a dolphin). "I would never stand between two people who share a love as deep as yours."

My nose crinkled before I could stop it, and I saw L's shoulders shake in repressed laughter.

Misa turned to him, her eyes shining. "Oh Ryuuzaki!" She reached out and grabbed him, yanking him into what had apparently become a group hug (do you have any idea how unhygienic it is to hug _one_ person, let alone _two_?). "You _understand! _You must be in love, too! Oh, _look_ at the three of us!" She was nearly exploding with enthusiasm and pure, unadulterated joy. L tried to escape but, like I said, strong bitch is strong. "There's so much _love _here!"

And we're both taller than her, so of course she managed to squish us together over her head without even noticing.

"Hello, Light-kun," Ryuuzaki mumbled, his voice muffled by my neck.

I shivered. His breath was warm, sweet, and dangerously familiar. I could feel his lips move against my bare skin. How many sexual situations can two people accidentally get into in the course of a day? I considered making a chart. Charts make everything better.

...Interesting. I was back at the place where that black notebook had fallen. This time, though, I could see someone walking up to it, picking it up. But I still couldn't see the person: it was just a blur.

I shook it off, more concerned that the genius I was up close and personal with would hear or feel my heart racing. Maybe if he did he would think it was because of Misa.

She finally released us from her clutches and both L and I took big steps back, away from each other. Misa apparently didn't notice how awkward the situation was. "Light, you never answered my _question_!"

I looked at L, who shrugged.

"Um... what was the question again?" I asked, making a cute, ashamed face.

It worked, of course, and she giggled. "Silly, I asked when we could go on a _date!_"

I managed to restrain my reaction. "If I had my way, Misa, I'd never be away from you." The sweet-talking. It was automatic. Seriously, it's compulsive. Most of the time I don't even mean to do it. It's a disease. I need a lot of very aggressive therapy.

She melted like chocolate in an oven. "Oh, Light..." She turned her best puppy eyes on Ryuuzaki. I had to admit, they were cute. "Please, _please_ can you take a break from work soon so Light and I can go on a date?"

He used his polite voice, even though I could see in his eyes that he was far from pleased. Why would he care? He was probably annoyed that we'd have to stop working for a full fifteen minutes. Shorter, if I could help it. "I don't see a problem with that. I'll be there, of course, but you're welcome to go on any date you wish."

"I'm not going outside with these handcuffs on," I informed anyone who was listening.

"Yay!" she enthused. "Tomorrow, Light! Don't forget!"

"Yes, Light-kun, you mustn't forget. I will help you remember," L assured me, a sardonic smile on his thin lips.

"Thank you, Ryuuzaki." I gave him the fakest grin I could possibly form. Misa was completely convinced, but Ryuuzaki's shoulders started actually shaking.

When Misa had pranced away, I turned on him. "Does my discomfort amuse you, Ryuuzaki?" I demanded.

"Yes, Light-kun, your discomfort amuses me greatly."

"Would you care to tell me _why_ my discomfort amuses you?"

"Because you have the most entertaining facial expressions I have ever seen on a human being when you are uncomfortable," he said happily.

I fumed, but it was probably true. I was a good actor; Ryuuzaki- L- was a better critic.

As if we didn't have enough with Misa, Matsuda burst into the hall. He didn't attack me, which was refreshing, but when I saw his expression mine immediately went from annoyance to concern. "Light, Ryuuzaki, we have a problem."

L frowned and we followed Matsuda back to the main investigation room. Watari was standing at a monitor, looking more concerned than I had ever seen him, which wasn't difficult, really, because I'd only ever seen him looking pleasantly distant. When he heard the door open, he turned around. He only had eyes for my cuff-buddy. ...Cuff-buddy? What the hell?

"Ryuuzaki, there's been an incident."

"With what?" L asked quickly, moving to Watari's side, dragging me with him.

"With..." Watari faded off and gave L a meaningful look that, by design, I was not supposed to understand. The younger man's eyes got huge.

"No..." he breathed.

It wasn't a 'no' of disbelief, but of refusal. He said it with the desperation of a parent.

Did L have kids? I was lost for a moment imagining lots of mini L's running around, staring at everything and between them consuming multiple cakes a day. The grocery list would be-

Ryuuzaki was talking again, in English now, so quickly that I couldn't keep up. I was good with English, but no match for a native speaker. Besides, I assumed that meant he didn't want me listening. I could ask him about it later, as soon as the situation was resolved. This was L, right? How long could such a thing possibly take?

Despite my wandering thoughts, one word did stand out to me because it was used over and over. I wasn't positive, but I was pretty sure I heard the word 'orphanage.'

* * *

**"I don't quite know how to say how I feel.**

**I need your grace to remind me to find my own.**

**All that I am, all that I ever was, is here in your perfect eyes- they're all I can see.**

**I don't know where... confused about how as well... **

**Just know that these things will never change for us at all."**

**-Chasing Cars, Snow Patrol**


	8. The Great and Powerful L

**Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note.**

* * *

The bottomless, inconsolable grief in Ryuuzaki's expression worried me. Even with the Kira case, I'd never seen him react this strongly to something. To _anything_. He stumbled to a seat and let his knees give out. He slumped over on the desktop, devastation radiating from him. Watari looked just as desolate, but he was older, and you couldn't help but get the vibe from him that he'd been though a lot and knew how to deal with pain.

Ryuuzaki said a few more things in English, and now I was _really_ worried. I heard the word 'child.' Maybe Ryuuzaki really did have kids. He might have been lying about the virgin thing.

His face was in his hands now, and it was killing me to see him like this, especially considering the limited but daunting information I had. I approached him quietly and put a gentle hand on his shoulder. He looked up. His (beautiful, dark) eyes were dry. He wasn't crying. _Could_ he cry? I didn't say a word; I just left my hand on him and faced Watari to indicate that I wasn't interrupting. Just... trying. L smiled weakly at me and leaned into my hand before straightening a bit.

...Now the blurry form was putting _down_ the black notebook, and on the book itself I caught a quick flash of some white writing. What?...

L continued on in English to the old man, who was nodding occasionally. This time, I heard the English pronunciation of my name and I couldn't help but frown. They were going so fast. I wanted to know what was going on! This was clearly a big deal! And now my name was involved, so it was sort of my business! They may have been using the improper noun, though. That was possible, I guess, but they really didn't appear to be discussing light fixtures.

It wasn't the time to ask. I understood that. So I simply dealt with it and waited patiently for them to either slow down or switch back to Japanese.

Finally, they did. "Light-kun, if you will accompany me to our room," Ryuuzaki said quietly in the language I understood best. It wasn't a request. I obeyed.

Once we were there, he shuffled over to our closet and removed two large suitcases. I was burning with curiosity, but I didn't want to ask. He looked like he would either attack me or burst into tears if I said the wrong thing, and I didn't want either of those things to happen. Of the two, I'd rather he attacked me. I mean... I just... didn't want to see him cry.

He carried the bags to the bed and put them both down. He opened one and shuffled back to the closet. Alright, he was packing.

I watched him as he came back with a few more of his white shirts, stuffing them unceremoniously into his suitcase, and gestured with a vague wave of his hand at the other suitcase.

Ah, so _we_ were packing.

Packing, for me, is normally a two-day process: making a chart, getting everything laid out, alphabetizing everything, and then placing it in its optimal suitcase position. Something told me, however, that I had to fight the OCD for this one day and just put things right into the suitcase without even making a list or setting anything aside first.

No one, however, could stop me from folding my clothes.

No one.

I joined Ryuuzaki in his bustling about, keeping an eye on what he was packing to see what kind of things I should bring. I eventually realized this was a bad strategy because he wore the same thing in every situation regardless of how inappropriate it was. He might be able to get away with that because he was The Great and Powerful L, but I was Light Yagami, Overly-Intelligent Japanese College Student Who was _Handcuffed_ _to_ The Great and Powerful L. I was pretty sure I couldn't do what he did without repercussion.

I sighed mentally and did my best. I generally wear the same thing every day too, to be fair, so I really shouldn't criticize L. I have one style: formal. So I packed the most casual formal clothes I had, and also a few on the higher end of formal, and the appropriate footwear for each. I hoped that The Great and Unhygienic L would stop by the bathroom to pick up a toothbrush so that I could too, but it was unlikely. I hadn't skipped brushing my teeth since I was... wait... _ever_. I seriously think that I've never skipped brushing my teeth. Every morning and every night. I could buy a toothbrush at the airport. If we were going to an airport.

This packing couldn't be done. It was impossible.

But so was my Accelerated Honors Statistics class, and I'd taken it two years before I was supposed to and gotten one hundred percent without studying.

I could do this.

With renewed determination and confidence, I packed. L packed three shirts, I'd pack five. L packed one pair of pants, I'd pack five. Yes, my suitcase was going to be heavier, but I'd smell good, and that's the important thing, right?

Right.

He glanced at me and at my suitcase, then nodded. I was proud of myself. And... joy of joys... he actually went to the bathroom! He picked up his toothbrush (let the Church say amen!) and I quickly grabbed all my hygienic materials. He looked vaguely amused to see my arms full of the stuff that made me attractive, but he didn't try to stop me, which was good because I was taking them whether he liked it or not. An unattractive Light equals a very annoyed Light, and that was unpleasant for everyone. Do you _want _to see me completely broken out? Do you? No. You don't. You should see a picture of my dad when he was my age. Acne like crazy. His face was one giant pimple. I have to fight the genes. And I do. With everything I've got. And I win. Oh, I win.

Repressing the OCD does things to my sentence structure.

Ryuuzaki threw his toothbrush on top of his clothes and shut his suitcase. He had the decency to wait a moment for me to place everything quickly but carefully. When I was done, I closed it and looked at him expectantly.

He started moving so I followed, and he finally managed to speak as we hurried out of our room. "You may ask your questions."

"Are you okay?" I asked first.

He shook his head. I wasn't sure if that was a 'no' or a refusal to answer. "Next question."

"Where are we going?"

"Winchester, England."

"How long?"

"Unknown."

"Why? I mean, why are we going there?"

We were outside of the building now, and Watari pulled up in a black limo. L stepped in and slid down the seat so that I could get in, too. I sat next to him, patiently, knowing he would answer. Probably.

When the door was closed and Watari started driving, L spoke. "I told you I grew up in England. There is an orphanage in Winchester where I spent several years. It is a home for exceptional children. I was not the only one there, of course, there were and are many others. When my renown grew after I left, the administration allowed me to create a curriculum and then to influence admissions standards. So I know most of the children there. It is the closest thing I have to a home, and the children and staff there are the closest I have to a family." His face was set, but I saw through it. He was trying, again, not to cry. "Two of the children that I am especially close to have been kidnapped. We are going to Winchester to find them and retrieve them by any means necessary."

He closed his mouth definitively and I knew that I would be getting no more out of him for a while. I settled into the plush seats and began to mentally prepare myself for the approximately- I did some math- eight hour plane ride.

* * *

We arrived at the airport about an hour later, at which point we spent another hour getting through security. Somehow they let us on the plane with the handcuffs, which was probably because this was L. We found our seats with no issues. First class, very nice. Again, L. Although since he was L, I wasn't sure why we weren't taking a jet or something. I'm sure he had one.

Once we were in the air, I began flipping through a Sky Mall catalogue, looking at all the useless but entertaining crap that people can buy. I whispered so as not to freak out the other people on the plane. "Ryuuzaki, if you suspect me of being Kira, why are you bringing me to the place you describe as your home that houses the people you describe as your family?"

He shrugged slightly. "I have no choice. I can't leave you without my own personal supervision. And if you are Kira, you will not be able to kill any of them without instantly giving me proof of this, because of the otherwise secluded nature of the orphanage. That, and your investigative and deductive skills may be useful in this situation. Mine may be compromised by my emotions, and I will need you to tell me if I am acting illogically." He said the last part at a murmur.

It was true. If I was Kira, which I'm not, I wouldn't be able to kill any of the people at the orphanage without basically confessing guilt. He was actually perfectly safe in bringing me. Very nice. The other part alarmed me though: L being compromised by his emotions? I knew that he _felt,_ but there was a difference between feeling and letting it get to you.

These people must really matter to him. These children. Or, I guess, they were probably only a few years younger than me.

...I bet he'd be weirded out if I brought that up. _'Hey, L, I'm only a bit older than your kids. Wanna screw again tonight?'_

I repressed the grin before it could appear on my face. This was not an appropriate time to be grinning.

"What do you think happened to them?"

He didn't reply immediately. When he did, it was almost a whisper. "I have no idea." He looked at me, and our gazes locked for a solid two minutes, neither of us saying a word. For once, he didn't seem to be reading me. He probably wasn't doing it on purpose but he _seemed_ like he was... _begging_ me.

So I took his hand. I didn't let go.

_The blur was walking away from the notebook._

"We'll get them back," I assured him gently, ignoring the flash. "Between the two of us, some common kidnapper doesn't stand a chance."

"Yes..." he said vaguely, before gracing the window with his gaze.

I felt colder without it, like I had been hollowed out. But I felt warm, too, and the warmth was radiating from his hand where our fingers were entwined. I squeezed slightly, missing him even though he was _right there_.

And then he squeezed back, and all the empty went away.

* * *

**"Don't give up**

**It's just the weight of the world.**

**When your heart's heavy**

**I, I will lift it for you."**

**-You Are Loved, Josh Groban**

* * *

**A/N: Last time around, I used this author's note to thank my friend "Alanna" for her help with the plot of a very major part of this fanfic. So, thanks, "Alanna!"**


	9. Tentatio Onis

**Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note.**

* * *

We stepped off the plane a grand total of nine hours later, and I was immediately glad for all the English I had taken. To blend in (as if a young Japanese guy handcuffed to an older guy who looked like _L_ did could ever blend in), L spoke English. That is, when he spoke at all. Most of the time he simply looked tight, worried, and preoccupied. He spoke slowly enough for me to keep up, and I appreciated it. I knew with the total immersion that came from being _in_ the country it would only take me a few days to catch onto the language, but until then I really did need him to slow it down.

L had gained control of himself, but I could see (when probably no one else could) that it was a shaky hold.

How he could completely ignore the strange looks we received from passersby, I would never know. I was burning with embarrassment, and apparently it was noticeable, because he looked over at me, hunched in his way, and gave me a look that said 'deal with it.'

So I did. See? I can deal with things. I packed blindly for him, didn't I? That was an act of charity.

"You forgot-" I said in English.

"Someone else will be by to pick up our bags," he answered before I could finish.

"Okay."

"By the way, your English is good. You're good at the accent."

"Thank you."

We rode in silence for a while, then he said, suddenly, "The children who live where we are going are very intelligent."

I felt the urge to point out that he had already told me that, but in his state I figured I should let this one slide. Instead, I politely said, "Okay."

"What I mean is, they are intelligent to the level that in a few years they could rival you or me. You must watch what you say around them, because they will never forget it, and they will use it against you if given the opportunity. They will notice the handcuffs, and I will explain, but they may also come to their own conclusions. Do not allow yourself to be upset by anything they say, and do not under any circumstances tell them of last night's activities." He hooked his cell phone out of his pocket and checked the time. "You will not have to worry about that tonight, however. It is eleven o'clock here, and they are required to be in their rooms now."

"That's probably a good thing," I agreed as the car pulled through huge wrought-iron gates.

I gaped blatantly at the building we were approaching. I didn't have to read the sign to know this was it. You think old British building, you get a mental image of this place exactly. It was huge, made entirely of a welcoming grey/brown stone. It had a bell tower, even, and beautiful grass and shrubbery and trees. I was used to Tokyo: I'd never been somewhere I couldn't see where the individual's property ended. I couldn't begin to imagine how much space must belong to this building. There was an apparently (it was dark) full-sized soccer field in the distance, well-worn swings, even a little pond that was probably used for science experiments, surrounded by cattails and filled with lily pads and other plant life I had no name for. I imagined being a kid here, running through this _massive_ yard, and the thought brought a serene smile to my lips.

The smile faded when I realized that if you were here, it meant your parents were dead.

I realized that I hadn't told my dad I was going to England, but I was sure that Watari had taken care of it.

The place should have been eerie in the darkness, but the warm yellow light coming from the windows made you think of cookies and hugs and milk, and it was impossible to be uneasy. It would be filled with people like L and Watari, and for the first time in my life I would be surrounded by frighteningly intelligent people like myself. This was going to be amazing.

The car stopped and L got out, dragging me after him. The cool breeze struck my face and whipped my hair. It was fresher than I had expected it to smell in England. I had heard so many stories about London's air quality. Well, I lived in Tokyo, so I guess it would be hard for it to be _less_ fresh.

L and I approached a side door that I wouldn't have noticed in a million years. He absently entered a number that was about twenty-five digits long into a keypad, and the door opened obediently with a friendly green light, admitting us, somehow, into what could only be the main entrance.

The entire ceiling was stained glass, ornate Biblical scenes ranging from Genesis right to Revelations, covering just about everything in between. I couldn't see the colors because it was dark outside, but I made a mental note to make Ryuuzaki bring me back here when I could see it as it deserved to be seen.

The room itself had to be at least three stories tall, and the walls were classy plaster paneled with warm-looking wood.

It was breathtaking, and for a few minutes I could only gawk.

Yes, this was the place that had produced L.

They must have been expecting us: the lights in the elaborate chandelier were on.

I felt an unfamiliar texture through my shoes and managed to tear my attention away from the ceiling. The floor was one giant mosaic that put the stained glass to shame. I'd always been impressed by mosaics because you simply can't fake them, and you never see an 'okay' mosaic. They're either amazing or they're terrible. I'd have to rethink my two categories, however (I could make a chart!), because this one blew them out of the water. The detail was incredible, the size of the individual tiles appalling in their smallness. It should have been impossible, but there it was. The garden of Eden in all its splendor, dozens of animals represented, greens and purples and browns and blues and yellows and, surprisingly, only one instance of red. In the very center of the room, the beautiful Eve (tastefully covered by her long, chestnut hair that flowed as if it were real) was taking a bite out of the apple. It was the only thing that was red in the entire mosaic. Next to Eve, the snake curled up in the Tree of Knowledge, looking very pleased with himself, mouth parted in what was definitely a mischievous laugh. He still had his legs, which meant that God hadn't punished him yet. Written artfully in a firm font and more, tiny tiling, was the word 'tentatio-onis.'

Ryuuzaki saw me looking and translated. On any other day, we probably would have had a good three-hour discussion about the art in this room, but he had other problems today. "It means 'judgment,'" he told me absently.

I already knew.

_...The blur that was a person was walking away from the black and white notebook. It paused and finally stopped. I sensed a frown, and it turned to look over its shoulder..._

I noticed that Ryuuzaki had his hand on my arm and I tried not to think about how nice the contact was. I looked at him to find out why he felt it necessary to torture me, and I realized that it wasn't to stop me from moving- it was to stop _himself_ from falling over.

He was staring even more intensely than usual, so I followed his gaze.

There was a kid standing in a corner facing the door through which we had entered. He was maybe only a few years younger than me. He blended right in, looked like he belonged, so I wouldn't have thought it abnormal except L had said that the kids were all supposed to be in their rooms. He was a tall, lanky boy, with a shock of red hair and goggles around his neck. He was dressed entirely in stripes.

That, yes, and the fact that he looked ready to dissolve into tears.

He seemed to have been waiting for L, because when we entered he turned wide blue eyes, red and swollen from sobbing, onto him, and a fresh wave of tears cascaded down his already streaked cheeks. "L..." he whispered wetly. "He's gone. He's not here, and I don't know where he is. Near too, but... Mello... he's... we were in our room last night and then I woke up and he wasn't there and..." his voice broke and L rushed over to him, scooping him into an embrace, practically smothering him in his arms. Even I was caught up in the emotion, even though I'd never seen this teenager before in my life. "And I can't stop c-crying."

"Matt, we're going to get him back. Mello- and Near- will be back before you know it."

The child, Matt, was clutching at L like a life raft, and I realized he had probably been standing there all day. He looked shaky, utterly exhausted, and, most of all, terrified.

It was heartrending. Matt had the best puppy eyes I'd ever seen and I was willing to bet he wore those goggles most of the time because he couldn't control them. You could see his heart breaking and his every gut-wrenching sob made tears well up in my own eyes. This 'Mello,' whoever he was (my English might be off, but wasn't mellow an emotion?), had to be important to him. You don't cry like that over an acquaintance. When you cry over an acquaintance, you don't sound like your world is falling apart and your soul has been torn from your body. This wasn't a genius, this wasn't a kid, this wasn't an orphan: this was a person who was terrified, incapacitated, out of his _mind_ with grief and fear for someone he loved.

I understood, then, with perfect clarity, that L would do anything to get him back for him, and that I would do anything to help. _And_ that L wouldn't even have to ask me to.

"What if he's dead?" Matt asked in a tiny voice.

"He's not dead. If the intruder's intention was murder, then we would have found Mello's body already. No, the kidnapper must want something, and he cannot kill Mello or Near because they are the only reason we are paying attention to him, and also the reason we will most likely give in to his demands."

Matt nodded weakly. He was wobbling on his feet, his knees apparently going out occasionally, but Ryuuzaki was holding him so it didn't matter. The hysterical teenager must have been awake since he had noticed Mello's absence, and the intensity of the emotion he was experiencing was obviously taking its toll.

"Okay," he mumbled, burying his face in L's neck like a child. He was barely awake. "But... you have... to... Mello, and... they..." He lifted his head and looked at L intensely, as if what he had just said had made sense and been of vital importance. L nodded, and Matt's whole body relaxed into a lump. He was asleep in Ryuuzaki's arms in short order.

L, blinking hard, carried him to a room, followed closely by me. It was a long hallway, not as grand as the entrance but what it lacked in impressiveness it made up for with friendliness and general warmth.

I was not surprised that Ryuuzaki seemed to know where he was going. He stopped in front of a heavy, dark-wood door.

"I got it," I said quietly, skipping in front of him to open it.

Ryuuzaki carried the boy to one of the two beds in the room. He bent to put him down, then paused, mumbling to himself, "He would prefer to be in Mello's bed." He shuffled to the other bed and put him there, tucking him in.

These _were_ his kids. Maybe he wasn't their father, but they were every inch his kids.

He leaned over and kissed him on the forehead. The tenderness in the action was undeniable, and a twang went through my heart at seeing L act so utterly _human_.

Even more human- he straightened and walked stiffly out of the room and down the hall, me ever trailing behind him, pretending I was following him out of choice and I was choosing to be a good friend.

It was a long hallway, but Ryuuzaki didn't make a sound, even though I could see him fighting his facial muscles to maintain that ever-important control.

Like before, without even a thought, I reached out and took his hand.

_...The blur— who WAS this?— was turning around, walking back..._

Like before, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, Ryuuzaki didn't pull away.

* * *

**"Come, stop your crying, it will be all right.**

**Just take my hand, hold it tight.**

**I will protect you from all around you.**

**I will be here, don't you cry.**

**For one so small, you seem so strong.**

**My arms will hold you, keep you safe and warm.**

**This bond between us can't be broken,**

**I will be here, don't you cry."**

**-You'll Be In My Heart, Phil Collins**


	10. Matt Loves Mello

**Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note.**

* * *

Ryuuzaki broke down the moment we made it to his room. I thought watching Matt cry had hurt, but it was nothing, _nothing_, compared to watching Ryuuzaki cry.

He had walked in calmly, closed the door behind him, and I had kept walking. When the chain resisted, I had stopped and turned in time to see him stumble back against the door, all his weight against it, and cover his mouth and nose with both hands.

His shoulders and head came forward, his eyes squeezed shut, and he started to shake.

My mouth dropped open. I immediately hurried over to him, nearly tripping over our bags, which were mysteriously here. Once I got to him, though, I didn't know what to do. Could I hug him? Were we on hugging terms? Would a person even want to be touched in this situation?

That was a stupid question.

I grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled him off the wall and into me, wrapping my arms around him and holding him hard. His thin arms came around my midsection, clinging to me like he'd fall off the world if he didn't, his face in my neck. I tilted my head to rest on top of his. There was nothing I could say, so I didn't bother.

Ryuuzaki didn't sob. Instead, tears leaked silently from his eyes, the silence interrupted only occasionally by a shaky inhale. He leaned heavily on me- if I were to let go, he'd have fallen on his face. He must have thought I wouldn't let go.

I wouldn't.

_...the blur was approaching the notebook now, slowing down..._

"Ryuuzaki," I whispered, but I didn't know how to finish, so I just ran my fingers through his hair, stroking his head. It seemed to calm him, if only slightly, because after a few moments he was able to raise his eyes.

He looked as if he hadn't been crying at all, except for the streaks on his skin. His eyes weren't red, his face wasn't scrunched up.

L was even in control when he broke.

I smiled sadly at him and gestured to his bed with an incline of my chin. He nodded and I let go so he could walk.

It was a double bed, so when Ryuuzaki plopped down on top of the covers, I laid next to him, on my back. I rolled my head on 'my' pillow to look at him. He looked back at me and I immediately fell into those liquid charcoal eyes. He wanted to talk. I didn't know about what, but I was willing to take a shot.

"Is this the room you grew up in?" I asked kindly.

"Yes. They retain it for me because I often return to visit," he mumbled.

I let my eyes wander a minute, taking this place in.

It looked just like Matt and Mello's room, which looked mostly like the hallway, but it had hints of very distinctive L-ness. For example, there was a desk with office supplies and paper strewn everywhere, the pens still not grouped by color. I couldn't imagine how he could have grown up in such chaos, but it made me smile all the same. It had a no-nonsense feeling about it, although it wasn't unwelcoming. There was also a little bowl on the desk, filled with the assorted candy that came in huge bags around Halloween. I noticed there was no chocolate.

"Do you not like chocolate?"

He frowned for a second, trying to figure out where I had gotten such a question from. I watched as understanding clicked into his features. He hadn't even looked around to see what I was looking at. That was the thing about L. Well, one of the many. Understanding never 'dawned' on him, it happened with a snap. Intelligence as sharp as his cuts like a knife, it doesn't 'bloom.'

"I do, but I prefer other sweets. Mello has a fixation on chocolate that borders on addiction. He probably picked out all the chocolate for himself and left behind some hard candy or something of that nature."

"Is it really a good idea for a kid to each that much chocolate?"

Ryuuzaki almost smiled. "It's better than trying to take the chocolate away from him."

I laughed softly.

There was a moment of silence.

I couldn't keep gazing into his eyes like this. Something would happen, and that wouldn't do. He was fascinating on the average day- imagine having to deal with him when he was also _feeling_.

"Matt is taking this pretty hard," I observed quietly after a while. It was an obvious statement- just a means of making conversation. Luckily L knew this and didn't give me a 'that's obvious, Light-kun' look.

He nodded. "Matt... cares very much for Mello."

"A person doesn't cry like that over a person they 'care very much' for," I told him gently. My hand twitched with the desire to wipe the tear tracks from his face but I forced it to stay still. Obey! It did. I was pleased.

"Very well," Ryuuzaki conceded. "Matt _loves_ Mello very much. They grew up together here, and they have always been close friends, but it has been clear for some time that Matt's feelings are stronger than that."

"And Mello?"

"Only he knows how he feels about Matt," L said, and a small smile appeared on his face for a brief moment before disappearing again. "Although they are so close that it probably does not matter anymore. You rarely see one without the other. That's why Matt has been reduced to the state at which you saw him. He is normally a quiet, calm, distant person. Friendly enough, and very gentle, but distant. Except with Mello. When he is with Mello, he comes alive. Mello brings him to life, and, in return, he calms the small blond tsunami that is Mello. It is easy to forget Matt's true nature, when he is always with Mello."

I thought about it for a moment. I tried to picture this 'Mello' person. The only things I knew were 'small' and 'blond,' so it probably wasn't accurate at all, but I could see a cocky, chocolate-covered grin, a loudmouth who probably always wore bright colors to stand out. That, or lots and lots of black. "That sounds like love to me," I said after a minute.

"What?" he asked, a little too quickly.

"The mutual exchange, the inability to function properly when fearing for the other person," I elaborated. "The fact that he barely mentioned the other child- Near, right?- who is probably his friend. And the fact that a person you describe as 'quiet, calm, and distant' is willing to put up with someone you describe as a 'tsunami.'" I gave a half-shrug, which didn't really work because I was lying down. "People like that, when they're completely opposite... they often just tend to... work."

I don't think I blushed. I _hoped_ that I didn't blush.

"Yes," he said ambiguously. Stupid cryptic Ryuuzaki! "That makes sense."

We lay in silence for a while.

"Ryuuzaki, may I tell you something? If you would prefer silence, I don't want to upset you."

"Light-kun, you could not possibly make me more upset than I already am at this moment. Speaking with you will be comforting."

I don't know when it happened, but we were both lying on our sides, now, facing each other. We were close. Much too close. And I wanted to kiss him, but I wasn't going to, no way, because he was a wreck and that would be taking advantage of him and... no! Wait! It was because that would be disgusting! Right. That was why.

"I noticed something on the way here," I started, watching him closely for any kind of a reaction. His face was, for the moment, blank. I still wanted to kiss him... No I didn't. "I noticed that you held yourself together very well, when I understand that, for you, this is probably the worst thing that could happen."

"Thank you, Light-kun," he croaked. His breath caught.

Dammit, I'd tipped it over.

His face broke and finally his control did too, and a sob escaped his lips even as he pressed them together to stop it. My Must Overanalyze Everything complex shut down and I went into autopilot: I instantly grabbed him and scooted right up next to him. He didn't seem to mind, and soon I felt hot tears on my chest soaking through my shirt as he pressed as close to me as he could get. I guess even Ryuuzaki's self-control has limits.

_...The blur was leaning over, a hand going out for the notebook. No, no don't. _Please_ don't..._

I held him tightly, laying my cheek on his head again, breathing in his scent that was, ever-surprisingly, one of my favorites.

Somehow I managed to hear him when he spoke. "Light, I'm scared, and I don't know what to do."

"Don't be silly," I mumbled to him, my heart pounding at the lack of honorific after my name, so unusual for him. Not even last night (had that really been only last night? Wasn't that a million years ago?) had he used just my first name. He didn't respond. "Can you hear me?"

I felt him nod.

"Okay, then listen. I'll help you. Between the two of us, this is not even an issue. I understand why you're worried, and you get to be, it's okay, but you don't _have_ to be. This is what we _do_: we _figure things out_. We're obscenely smart and we're an incredible team. We'll get them back, and Near will be fine and Mello will be fine and Mello and Matt will be so disgustingly happy that we'll immediately want to go back to Japan just to get away from it. This is going to work out, Ryuuzaki. They'll contact us soon with demands and then we'll manipulate the situation. It's what you do best, after all."

He dug in closer to me.

"Okay?"

"Yes, Light-kun," he said quietly.

"You understand?" I reprimanded him like a child.

"Yes."

"Alright."

He didn't sleep, but he also didn't move away: he let me hold him the entire time, talking occasionally. He didn't cry again.

Once he popped his head up and kissed me quickly on the lips before burying his face back into my chest. I was red for a good ten minutes after that (I was glad we'd never turned the lights on; he wouldn't be able to see me blush), and I barely registered the image of the blur, by now so familiar, picking up the notebook.

I didn't sleep either, and I never let go of him.

I didn't even brush my teeth that night.

* * *

**"Clouds will rage and storms will race in,**

**But you will be safe in my arms.**

**Rains will pour down, waves will crash around,**

**But you will be safe in my arms.**

**Story books full of fairy tales of kings and queens and the bluest skies.**

**My heart is torn just in knowing you'll someday see the truth from lies.**

**Castles they might crumble, dreams may not come true,**

**But you are never all alone, because I will always,**

**Always love you."**

**-In My Arms, Plumb**


	11. Lines Drawn in Sand

**Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note, but I do own Igloo, Dane, and C.**

**A/N: Can anyone write a better summary for this fic? It would be much appreciated.**

* * *

Neither of us slept that night, him because he couldn't, me because I wouldn't close my eyes for long enough to stop staring at him. If I had fallen asleep, I wouldn't have had the solid seven hours to talk to him... just _talking_, no accusations, no getting defensive because of accusations, no arguing or beating each other up...

As interesting as he was when he moved, when he thought; he was equally interesting when he just... talked. He didn't say anything that could tell me who he was, so obviously he was paying attention and his guard wasn't down. I accepted that I would never know his real name or much more about him than I already did.

However, the things he _did _talk about totally threw me off. Some of the things he asked me about and told me about, I didn't even know he was aware existed. Apparently he listens to music. When I playfully accused him of being inconsistent in his weirdness, he informed me that he knew exactly on how many occasions in his life he had worn socks, to which I replied that I again considered his weirdness largely consistent. He chuckled at that. It was a sweet sound, low, quiet, and tame.

Our conversation drifted to past romantic encounters, although we tiptoed around the subject of our own. I told him about the people I'd slept with in the past (those I could remember), told him it wasn't what it was cracked up to be, briefly mentioning that there was one exception. He got my message and accepted it gracefully without making a scene. A passerby wouldn't have known we were talking about _him. _He told me about the one romantic almost-encounter he had had as a pre-teen at Wammy's. It had mostly consisted of her passing him a note and him blinking at her, circling 'no,' and passing it back. He told me emotionlessly that she was dead now. I had no idea how it had come about or how he felt about it, and I didn't ask.

In short, we talked about everything that didn't matter, the things that normal people talk to other normal people about when they try to get to know each other.

It was... really cool. Just cool.

The sun started to rise, filtering in through his half-closed white curtains, throwing a melodramatic but undeniably lovely pink and red gradient over his face.

I laughed and pointed out the sunlight. "You almost looked healthy for a minute, there," I informed him.

"We can't have that, now can we?" he said with a completely straight face. "We should prepare to go downstairs anyway- at Wammy's, activity begins at sunrise. Some of the children choose to awaken that early."

"_Why_?" I moaned jokingly, pretending to be appalled.

"In imitation of me, I imagine."

We showered, which wasn't as awkward as it had been the first time. When we got out and dry and dressed, I demanded at least ten minutes with the mirror.

"_This_ doesn't just happen," I enlightened him, gesturing in the general area of my face.

With a slight roll of his big eyes, he slouched in the bathroom, brushing his teeth (apparently he _was_ aware that oral hygiene was his friend) and waiting for me to get it together. I shaved, beat my hair into submission, and brushed and flossed my teeth as well, taking extra time on the last part to make up for my first _ever_ instance of missed dental care. (You may say it's pathetic, but _I've_ never had a cavity and my teeth are the perfect, natural white. Say what you will: my teeth are better than yours.)

Needless to say, he finished long before me. He looked more and more amused as I snatched up every second he allowed me to have here.

"Light-kun, you spent nearly two months in a prison cell, allowed one shower every three or four days and no time to primp yourself, and you managed to still be attractive in baggy black clothes, bound, and curled up on the floor. You will be fine."

"I'll be in here until you drag me out," I corrected him. "Who knows when you'll let me do this again? I have to make the best of it."

I wasn't even sure what I was doing anymore, but I knew I wanted all the time I could get. I was done, but this might be the last time I ever saw a mirror and was able to get myself up to my standards.

I eyed L for a moment, fantasizing about what I would do to his hair if I could, but looked away before he could catch me.

He sighed dramatically and played with the handcuff on his wrist. "We will have scars from this chain," he mused to himself.

"I know," I replied quietly. Then, for some reason, I thought, _'more than a wedding ring.' _What the hell? What did _that _mean? I freaked myself out. "Okay! I'm presentable," I said quickly.

He perked up and we made our grand exit.

We stepped into a hallway. A few children were already up and about, like Ryuuzaki had said, and they all smiled at L as they walked by. They weren't overly odd-looking, but something about them wasn't... _normal_.

It was because _they_ weren't normal, I reminded myself. They were calm, sure of themselves, and their eyes had that flash of intuition that I'd only come across a few times in my non-University days. An all-around, above-average intelligence, and it wasn't something I was used to seeing in a child, let alone multiple children.

I saw Matt and raised a hand in greeting. He tried to smile but failed, giving me a half-wave as he walked by. I was amazed that he remembered me considering the circumstances, but I probably shouldn't have been.

"This way, Light-kun," Ryuuzaki said pleasantly.

As we walked, most of the kids greeted L in one way or another, and the occasional younger child would latch onto his leg for a few steps before releasing him. He would pat their head and say something nice, and they'd go away happy.

I noticed that not all of them had the eyes that Matt and some of the others had, and I asked Ryuuzaki about it.

"They are all brilliant, but some are exceptional," he answered simply.

"How many kids live here?"

"Fifty seven."

Statistically, they couldn't all be freaky-geniuses. Although I got the feeling that they were all pretty damn close.

I followed him into a huge dining hall.

"...Whoa."

The outer wall of the room was all glass. I hadn't noticed, but it'd snowed overnight, and the sun was shining brilliantly. The reflection off the snow lit up every corner of this room until it was almost blindingly white, breathtaking.

L watched me react to this thing he had seen a thousand times, a small smile gracing his features when I turned to grin at him. "This is amazing!" I announced.

The room was full of long wooden tables, dotted here and there with early-risers reading, talking, eating, or some combination of the three. No one seemed distraught, so I guessed that most of them hadn't been told of Mello and Near's absence. I could see an archway that probably lead to a kitchen, and I watched as a busy-looking middle-aged lady emerged from it, rolling a cart to a wall I couldn't see from my position.

"Are you hungry?"

"Yes," I realized.

He led me to the wall I had been previously blind to, and it was basically a huge buffet. L picked up a plate so I imitated him.

I could see that the fruit was on the far end of the table, and I was willing to bet there'd be cake there, too, but Ryuuzaki thoughtfully paused by the eggs to allow me to fill my plate with things that normal people eat at six A.M. I then followed him without complaint and tried not to think about his poor, abused insulin receptors as he loaded up on sweets- fruit and, yes, there was cake. It was strawberry, which was his favorite, so I sensed that it was a special provision for his visit.

I felt warm, despite the snow outside, and decided to indulge in the hot chocolate that was offered among various juices, coffees, and teas. Branching out, I know.

L sat us down at a table and he folded up into his seated position. It was nice that the chairs had backs (unlike in most school cafeterias), although I suspected that L's posture had probably influenced the final decision.

I ate slowly, trying to look everywhere at once.

The lady from before walked by, pausing to put a hand on L's shoulder, smiling down at him. "Welcome back, L. When you're done with breakfast, could you go get Igloo? He's been out there since three in the morning."

They said something more and she handed him something, but after staying up all night speaking English I had had enough of it for the moment, and I let my mind wander away from the conversation. Plus, I didn't know what an 'igloo' was and I didn't know how to get one. If it was important or required my assistance, L would explain.

I amused myself by repeating the word 'igloo' over and over in my head, enjoying how funny it sounded, and making up definitions for it. It was a female African violet. It was an unconscious telephone operator. Oh, or it could be-

"Light-kun?" I could hear the hint of amusement in his voice, and I forced my sleep-deprived mind back to its surroundings.

"What's an igloo?" I asked him. "I mean, what does the English word 'igloo' mean?"

He said it in Japanese.

"Okay, so how are we supposed to retrieve an igloo?"

"I'll show you. Have you finished with your breakfast?"

I wasn't but I nodded anyway, more interested in this igloo business than I was in exceptional scrambled eggs.

To my confusion, Ryuuzaki went straight back to the buffet.

"What are you doing? How long is this going to take, if we need to bring _food_?"

He didn't answer, simply putting a little of everything on the plate and handing it to me to hold. Bewildered, I followed him out of the dining room and down the hall to a closet. He opened it to reveal towels, sheets, and everything else that one is accustomed to finding in a linen closet. It was the biggest linen closet I'd ever seen, but it was responsible for a lot of children. He dug around until he found a stack of blankets, and he removed all of them. There were probably about six.

"Are we _camping_?" I demanded.

"Be patient, Light-kun."

"You know I don't do patience well," I replied, my natural prissiness attempting to take over. I tried to smother it with a few deep breaths, and it mostly worked.

I'm trying. I don't _mean_ to be the way I am...

Ryuuzaki was now dragging me through more hallways, which I gave a valiant effort to memorize. It wasn't necessary since I'd be handcuffed to him and he knew the way, but it was my nature to try anyway. Suddenly we were in the enormous yard I had seen before, but it looked completely different. Most significantly, it was covered in snow. Except, I could see, for an area far away. I could see the grass there, and the snow in the area around the grass was trampled.

And... there was an igloo built right next to the patch of exposed grass, made_ out _of the snow that used to be there, with one set of footsteps leading in and none leading out.

I pointed at it and he nodded. When we arrived there, I discovered that the structure was very well assembled, even though there didn't seem to be enough snow for it to have been possible.

L squatted down in front of the entrance. "Igloo?"

That was it. L had lost his mind. He was now talking to an igloo (which, by the way, was still a fun word to say) as if he expected it to answer. The grief, sleep deprivation, and sugar were getting to him. He was going into insulin shock!

Before I could dial an emergency number or my mind could wander to any worse scenarios, a little head popped into view.

"Hi, L."

He was probably about twelve, but he was very small. He was bundled up to his eyes; I could see nothing of him but their bright, slushy grey.

"Hello," L smiled. He addressed me without looking at me. "Light-kun, would you like to meet Igloo?"

Uh... okay?

I squatted down right next to him and craned my neck until I could see into the igloo and could make out the shape of the little boy sitting in it.

"Light-kun, this is Igloo. Igloo, this is Light-kun."

"Nice to meet you," I said in my clearest English, which, as L himself had said, was excellent.

And then the kid just... started speaking Japanese. He spoke so quickly that I almost couldn't keep up. He stopped, frowned, and switched to what I thought was Chinese.

"No, I'm Japanese," I told him in Japanese. "You just startled me. I like your igloo. My name is Light."

A mitten-clad hand popped to the very edge of the outermost limit of the igloo, and I reached in and shook it.

"My name's Igloo," he told me, still in flawless Japanese. "Well, not really. But that's what they call me. How do you write your name?"

Speaking Japanese was one thing, but writing in it too? I was impressed. I told him how it was written and he nodded, slowly. "I bet a lot of people think your name is Moon when they first meet you, right?"

I blinked at him and nodded slowly.

He grinned. "Cool."

I blinked at Ryuuzaki next, just to mix it up.

L rejoined us, keeping it in Japanese to give my brain a break. "Mary cornered me at breakfast. She wants you to come in."

The kid's eyes went huge and he withdrew into the back of his fort. "No," he said firmly.

"I told her you wouldn't want to, but she still made me come try to convince you. You know how she is," Ryuuzaki said conspiratorially. "I, however, do not wish to evict you, and came instead to bring you some supplies and a new textbook."

Igloo came to the entrance again. His slate eyes sparkled and L handed him the textbook. "Hungarian! Thank you!"

"We brought you food, too." I offered the strange person the plate. He took it politely, and L passed in the blankets next.

"I'll tell Mary I tried to convince you to come out, and I'll make sure you don't get in trouble."

"Thank you," he said, already reading the textbook with one hand and adjusting the blankets with another, pausing occasionally to convey the food to his mouth.

"You are welcome. I shall see you later."

He nodded. He was nice, but he was now focused on what he _really_ loved, languages, and we were obsolete.

On the way back to the warmth of the orphanage, I shook my head in slow amazement. "What's up with him?"

"He builds an igloo every time it snows and he refuses to come out under any circumstances. We don't know why, but we also can't stop him, so we mostly just let him be. Mary has always had a problem with it, especially now that he's getting older. She finds it harder to dismiss his idiosyncrasies. I may be biased, but I believe that if he wishes to retreat into an igloo every winter for days on end, then he should be allowed to. I proudly facilitate his interest."

"And the language?" We had switched back into English.

L shrugged. "Who knows? He has an affinity for it, that much is obvious. If he is going to be secluding himself for a quarter of every year, he might as well use his time to develop a skill that will make people more willing to tolerate him."

"Was that your strategy?" I teased him.

He smiled. "Yes. Was it yours as well?"

I used my best innocent face and voice. "Me? I have no quirks. I'm perfect in every way. I'm a brilliant, attractive, polite, hard-working eighteen-year-old University student."

"Who certainly does not sleep with men."

"Of course not! Why would I do that? I'm devoted to my beautiful, loving, intelligent girlfriend."

We were back in the warm, and I enjoyed the tingling of my fingers and toes as feeling returned to them. I got another cup of hot chocolate and he followed suit, and we sat down at a different table. I almost gagged when he added sugar cubes.

There were more kids in the cafeteria now, and while I felt _looked at_ I didn't necessarily feel unwelcome.

As soon as we sat, three kids joined us. I was relieved that one of them was Matt- someone I recognized. Being mobbed by strange children wasn't my ideal start to a day.

Matt nodded to me and I nodded back as he sat very, very close to L. I knew then something that Ryuuzaki would never have been able to know, having never been in a relationship.

I knew that Mello loved Matt, too.

A short, strangely muscular boy sitting next to Matt indicated me with his chin. "You meet Igloo?"

"Yes," I answered. Something about him made me uncomfortable. Maybe it was the way Matt was glaring at him behind his goggles. If looks could kill then Matt was Kira.

I glanced around. Okay, good, I hadn't said that out loud. That wasn't funny. Some of these kids were probably _in_ here because of Kira. Not funny at all.

"What'd you think?" the abrasive boy demanded.

"He was interesting. His skill with language is impressive."

He rolled his eyes. "Freak, if you ask me. Even by Wammy standards."

Matt, I could tell, was seething. The blond girl that was sitting on the other side of L made a face. "Dane, you're a jerk," she informed him.

Ryuuzaki watched the carryings-on with mild interest.

"And you, Linda, are also a freak."

"I am an artist! An _artist_!" she shrieked. Whoa, a temper to match my own. "I _have_ to have weird habits!"

"So you admit you're one of the freaks, then."

She stomped her foot. "Shut _up_ or I'll draw what your face looked like when Roger caught you fucking Mello last year and plaster it all over Wammy's!" She glanced at Ryuuzaki to see if she was going to get in trouble for screaming the word 'fucking' in a cafeteria full of children, but no one seemed to mind. When fiery black doom in the form of L did not rain down upon her, she continued right on shrieking. "And in the background I'll draw your tiny dick!"

Ah, it was like middle school again. The language brought back so many memories.

It explained why Matt hated Dane, though. I'd hate Matsuda if I walked in on him fucking Ryuuzaki...

Oh, ew. Ew ew ew ew...

Dane, the muscled kid, screamed right back, something more about the freaks this place raised. I thought this was awkward with L sitting right there, folded up on his seat and chewing his thumb, but he didn't seem offended. I was sure Linda was going to attack him, but she simply took it up a few decibels and screeched, "You think we're freaks? Me, L, and Igloo are _all_ normal compared to how weird BB and C were! _You're_ even normal compared to them, fag!"

"Shut _up_!" Dane hissed. Matt immediately turned wide eyes on Ryuuzaki.

When the room went silent and Ryuuzaki froze, I knew some line had been crossed.

Linda went pale and bit her lip.

I wondered if it was the level of the noise, the letters she mentioned, or the term 'fag' (which meant cigarette here in England, right?) that had crossed this line. I wasn't sure, but I didn't really care: I was just glad it hadn't been me who did the crossing.

* * *

**"One love, one blood, one life, you've got to do what you should.**

**One life with each other, sisters, brothers.**

**One life, but we're not the same.**

**We get to carry each other, carry each other.**

**One."**

**-One, Johnny Cash**


	12. C

**Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note or Death Note Another Note. I do own C and Dane.**

**A/N: This chapter is dialogue intensive, but all of it is important for the rest of the fic. :D**

**Edited by Rekhyt!**

* * *

"L, I..." Linda started, but the look Dane shot her would have shut _me_ up mid-rant. And as many people know, it's hard to shut me up when I'm ranting.

"It's quite alright," L said pleasantly. He had already thawed out, already looked normal again. Well, probably to the average observer. Probably even to Matt.

But as L himself has told me countless times, as my parents, my teachers, and my "friends" have been telling me all my life, I, Light Yagami, am anything but average. I held my above-average tongue, however. He didn't need me to point it out, and I could ask for the whole story later. Maybe I could corner Matt and make _him_ tell me...

Wait, handcuffs. Right. So I'd ask L personally. I wanted to know the rules of this place, and if I didn't know which part had been crossing the line- B, C, the noise, or 'fag' (maybe L had been a smoker?)- I would never be able to peacefully exist here. I couldn't see how letters of the English language would freak him out, so I guessed it was one of the latter.

"So, um, I beat Twilight Princess again," Matt said awkwardly in an obvious effort to change the subject.

"It's a video game," L told me helpfully. Which was good to know because, I mean, I had kind of thought he had beaten up a princess or something. 'Again,' apparently. Ah, fun with the language barrier.

"Oh, are you into video games?" I asked politely.

That broke the tension.

Dane grinned. It wasn't a friendly grin. "Doesn't do anything else. Don't ask me how he's third here."

Matt shrugged. "I don't care. I don't study, I don't try, and I barely pay attention in class."

"He plays video games in class," Linda added.

"Imagine if I actually applied myself," Matt agreed sarcastically.

"But he won't," Dane said coarsely.

"Absolutely. It's too much fun to see how much it pisses Roger off that I won't even try to beat Near or... Mello." He almost choked on the name.

L kicked me gently under the table and I stifled a sound of alarm, sending him a 'what?' look and ignoring the blurry figure in my mind's eye bending forward more, closer to the black book.

Not looking at me, he very-casually put his forefinger to his lips. _Don't say anything._

I nodded a bit, disguising it as scratching the bridge of my nose.

Right on cue, Linda frowned and cast her eyes around the dining room. "Where are they, anyway? They're normally up by now. Oh, they're _both_ gone! I bet they're somewhere _aloooooone_..."

Both Matt and Dane scowled at that one. "Mello's sick. He's still in our room," Matt said curtly. "Roger quarantined him so he'll probably be there for a while."

Nice. Very nice, actually. Impressive lie. Simple, complete, believable. Matt had clearly lied like this before...

...which only strengthened my 'Mello loves Matt back' theory. They probably kept it a secret so this 'Roger' person wouldn't change their room assignments. And because Linda was the kind of person that would announce something like that to the world.

Holy shit, she's Misa.

Mini-Misa sighed. "Aw, he's sick? It's gonna be so boring without him! He probably got an STD from _you_, Dane."

"I don't have any STDs!" he insisted.

"Not yet."

"Fuck you!"

"Ew, no way! I don't want your STDs!"

"I DON'T HAVE ANY STDs, BITCH!"

Was I the only one who noticed that Matt hadn't given any answer about Near? Oh well. Geniuses are often easily distracted. Oh look, a squirrel!... ha ha, no, I'm kidding.

Linda and Dane were still fighting, but I was back to observing L and Matt. Fights are fun, but Matt and Ryuuzaki are unique. I'd never met anyone who's exactly like either of them, so they commanded my attention.

Matt hadn't eaten a thing. He kept picking it up, bringing it to his mouth, and putting it back down. Cognitively, he wanted and knew he needed to eat, but he couldn't make himself. I noticed Ryuuzaki noticing this and also saw him deciding not to push him. He was hardly the one to advocate healthy eating habits.

Besides being unable to eat, I could tell that Matt was uncomfortable. "Why don't you take that plate to Mello?" I suggested. "You could even sit with him for a bit. I'm sure he's going crazy in there alone."

"Good idea." Matt took the hint immediately. He laughed, and I would have believed that laugh if I didn't know better. "I've been sitting here with his food resisting the urge to eat it. Taking it to him _would_ resolve that problem." He shook his head, sighing. "Maybe I'm sick too."

He stood, holding the plate, and began to make his way out of the cafeteria.

"This is why you don't deserve third!" Dane called after him.

"I'm still a good fifteen ranks ahead of you, loser," Matt yelled right back over his shoulder.

Dane scowled, twirled his fork, and tossed it down onto his plate. "I'm outta here."

Linda said something about needing to study, and then Ryuuzaki and I were alone at the table. That happened fast.

"I imagine you have a few questions," L said tiredly after a beat.

"A few," I agreed.

"Very well. You may ask them."

Okay, but what to ask first? "Some of them are comments."

"Very well," he repeated.

Okay. Um...

"Well, first, I want to say that Linda reminds me of Misa."

L tilted his head, a smile teasing at his lips. "I suppose there is a resemblance," he conceded. "Although Linda is significantly more intelligent."

"Obviously. And I have a question. What's with the rankings?"

"At Wammy's, class ranks are posted every month. They were intended to be informational and to create healthy competition, and for most students it does so, but Mello, who is number two, has taken it a bit far. He badly wants to beat Near or, more specifically, be first. It will not happen: Near is simply too intelligent. I often wish I could combine them. An amalgamation of their personalities would be ideal."

"Ideal for what?"

"Ideal to take my place as L when I die. I am to appoint an heir, if you will. Near cannot understand people, Mello is too emotional. Combined, they would surpass me with very little effort."

That was a scary thought. "Can't they work together?"

L stared at me for a moment before understand snapped into his features. "Forgive me, it is such common knowledge here that I forget that you couldn't possibly know. They despise each other."

"Huh."

"Yes. Mello makes no secret of it so many of the children here believe the resentment is one-sided, but Near hates Mello just as much as Mello hates Near. Near is simply more subtle about it."

"I see." I processed that for a moment. "What about Matt?"

"He would be my choice were he not so lazy. He also wants no part of the title: it would create a problem between him and Mello, and to Matt, nothing is worth that."

"Then how is he third, if he doesn't try?"

L fiddled with his hot chocolate, pausing to take a sip. He put it back down. "He is simply that exceptional. He is off the charts. Near and Mello are too, but Matt is off of the 'off-the-chart charts,' if you care to think of it in such a way. It is a waste. Whatever landed him here in the orphanage made him dependant on three things: those goggles, his games, and Mello. Mello more than the other two." He shook his head.

"I bet whoever is fourth is pretty pissed off," I joked.

Ryuuzaki acknowledged the humor with a nod but said, "No. Near, Mello, and Matt are _so_ far ahead of the child ranked fourth that the groups have split. No one even tries for the top three positions; they compete for fourth as if it were first. They are much healthier about it, incidentally. They will all become something incredible and Matt will happily waste his mind, but Near and Mello will change the world."

I let Ryuuzaki have a few more sips of his drink.

Finally, I said, "I have one more comment and one more question."

"Naturally." He smiled and my mind blanked out for a second. I smiled back.

"Light-kun, you may make your comment or pose your inquiry, now."

"Mello loves Matt," I blurted.

"You have not met Mello," he pointed out.

"I know, but I've met Matt. You know how he sits really close to you?"

"Yes."

"When did he start doing that?"

L considered it. "Shortly after Mello and Dane's 'relationship' ended," he decided.

"Was Matt ever with someone before that?"

"No. I believe he has always loved Mello."

I leaned back in my chair, pleased with myself for being able to figure out the inner workings of a genius fifteen-year-old. "Mello loves Matt," I said more firmly.

"So you have said. But what has _led _you to this conclusion?"

"Most people aren't comfortable being physically close to other people, regardless of their feelings for that person, until they have been... intimate with someone. In whatever sense, but usually sex. Think about the people you've known before they had sex , and then think of how they were after that. Weren't they touchier? And not just with their partner? That's what I've always seen, at least. To me, the fact that Matt was sitting so close to you, seemingly without thinking about it, indicates that he's experienced this intimacy. And if not with Mello, then with whom?"

"I don't know if it's true or not, but your logic is sound," he said approvingly. "I'd say it's about an eighty-seven percent chance that you are correct."

I'd take those odds. I smirked. "But I'm right. If you asked Matt, and if you could get him to tell the truth somehow, then he'd confirm it."

"It is unlike Mello to be subtle about a relationship. For a while I believed it his goal to bed every male in this establishment."

I shrugged. "Maybe Matt's different. Maybe Matt's the only one that makes him actually _feel_."

...Fuck. That wasn't oddly specific and empathetic. Don't notice the parallel. Don't notice it. There's no parallel, what are you talking about? Pssh, parallels. You know, I've never even really believed there was such a thing as para-

"Perhaps. And your final question, Light-kun?"

Phew.

"What did Linda say?"

"What do you mean?" he asked immediately. His voice was far too innocent.

"Don't do that. What did Linda say that made everyone go quiet? Was it because she called Dane a fag?"

"That means cigarette here, Light-kun," he explained to the ceiling, hoping to distract me.

"I know that. Don't change the subject."

He brought his eyes back to mine and they locked. I wondered what he saw when he looked at me. The hours I put into my appearance when time allowed? A sex toy? A sidekick? A prisoner? A friend? A disembodied intellect?

"Wammy's has very few rules," he finally said, slowly. He checked to make sure I was paying attention. I was all ears. "None of those rules cover censorship. They may write about what they wish, speak without fear, and read what they wish to read. Some things are frowned upon, of course, such as pornography and excessive crude language, but none of it is expressly forbidden."

He looked at me and I nodded.

When he started speaking again, he didn't look at me anymore.

"The first curriculum I implemented here was too harsh. It put too much pressure on the academic lives of the students. It would have been perfect for me, as a child, which is why I _thought_ it was a good idea. It wasn't.

"Matt, Mello, Near, Dane, Igloo, Linda. None of those are their real names. Everyone here operates under a codename, which they are allowed to choose. It was not always this way. Originally, upon entering Wammy's, you were given a complete evaluation. Depending on your score, you were _given_ a code name. Roger, you have heard him mentioned, came up with the names. He decided to give everyone a letter, to remind them that they were striving to be... me." He frowned and ran his fingers through his hair before dropping his thumb back to his lips. He still wouldn't look at me.

"He called the highest scorer 'A,' the next highest 'B,' the next highest 'C,' the next highest 'D,' and so on. He skipped 'L.' It worked very well, because there was a pool of children I could choose to admit or reject. We administered the test, picked out twenty-five, and assigned them the names. So we had 'A' through 'Z,' excluding only 'L.'

"It was an excellent idea, and like communism it works well in theory but not in practice. Every child got stuck in their letter, in their rank, and they did not compete, because A was A and that's how it was.

"And then A killed himself. He slit his wrists one night in the office they have for me here. He was dead when I found him. His main skill was in mathematics, and in a simple, concise suicide note he wrote, "A," the 'does not equal' sign, "L." 'A does not equal L.' "I am not L." For all their intelligence, I could not make them understand that taking over my title was not the only goal of this institution. I _wanted_ to give them the foundation to do _anything_."

"That's not your fault," I told him.

He didn't agree or disagree; he simply nodded and continued, mechanically. "He, that is A, had been seeing a psychiatrist. He was in the orphanage because his mother had killed herself after A's father's death. His actions, while I do not condone them, were logical. It had been imprinted on him at a young age that suicide was a valid means of dealing with one's emotions, so it is not irrational that he would use such methods as well, when he had been pushed past his limit. I wish he had told us that he was considering taking his life. We would have helped him. _I_ would have helped him. But he was too smart for his own good- he knew how to get around all of us. Intelligence paired with teenage angst under extreme pressure is a dangerous thing."

I nodded in agreement and encouragement, still not entirely sure where he was going with this.

"When his psychiatrist told us what pills he was on, the problem became clear. Anti-depressants galore. Roger, Watari, the other staff and faculty and I came to the conclusion that A's suicide was tragic, terrible, but that it was mostly facilitated by his depression and anxiety, combined with the rigorous standards of the institution, not primarily the fault of the standards themselves. After all, these were the standards _I_ had imposed upon myself, and _I _was fine? And the other students seemed fine as well. Everyone was fine." He laughed bitterly, one short burst. "I cannot believe I did not take it as a warning, as a sign that maybe, just maybe, something was wrong with the program. That it was even _possible_ that other people aren't capable of the things that people like you, Light-kun, and I are naturally capable of. I was even more arrogant, then."

"It's an understandable assumption," I mumbled. But yeah. I could see how he'd feel responsible.

He continued as if I had not spoken. "The point of that narrative is that Wammy's was... not conducive to good psychological health, one might say. I did not take the warning A's death presented, however, and B became first ranked."

He closed his mouth with a snap and stared at everything in the room but me. How could the next part of the story possibly be worse?

"B was the cruelest child I have ever seen. He would... torture insects and animals, destroy things for no reason... and he'd _laugh_. And outside of that, he was strange. He wore a white shirt like mine, he died his fair hair to be like mine, he cut it like mine. He often tried to sit and to talk like me. The only thing he left his own was his eyes, naturally crimson. His cruelty was matched only by his hatred for me, despite how he chose to make himself appear, and the only thing stronger than either of _those_ was his love for the next boy down in the rank, C."

Ryuuzaki made a sound. It was a chuckle, but not really.

"There has apparently always been a strong tradition of homosexuality at Wammy's. Regardless, C loved B just as fiercely. Think of the feelings Matt has for Mello, how you can tell he is incomplete without him. Take my word that Mello is also incomplete without Matt. Now increase it exponentially and add mental instability. I do not exaggerate. They were never separated. They went to the bathroom together. They showered together. They forced their teachers to give them the same class schedule and to seat them side by side. B would become violent if someone tried to separate them, and from the moment they met they were, literally, never apart. They were like the two of us, with these handcuffs, but they did it by choice. For ten _years_. I still do not exaggerate. When I mean they were never apart, they were _never_ apart.

"They were terrors and eventually the rest of Wammy's children avoided them completely, but they were never _quite_ bad enough to expel, so they lived here until B decided they should leave. B was the dominant one in the relationship, although he consulted with C. C would do anything B wished, anywhere, at any time. B had a chronic lack of shame and once he requested oral sex where they were sitting, in the cafeteria at lunchtime, and C immediately complied. B had no shame, and if B was happy, C was happy. In this particular instance, Roger was not. I have never seen that level of devotion, that B and C had for each other. It was past love, it was love coupled with obsession and clinical codependence. It was destructive to everyone but the two involved, and possibly even to them. It was twisted." Ryuuzaki shook his head, and still, _still_ he was not done with the story.

"When B left and C followed him, the intellectual hierarchy of Wammy's fell apart and I redeveloped the curriculum. It became as you see it today. Now, it is much less dysfunctional.

"A few years after B and C left, the famous Los Angeles BB Murders took place. That was our B. C helped him plan it and it went very well, they successfully and brutally killed three people, except for one factor they couldn't control, that is, the woman I sent in to investigate. The story of that case is not important, but the fact remains: a graduate of Wammy's, _two_ graduates, rather, committed serial killings. B did terribly cruel things to the bodies. He then tried to use himself as the final victim to create a case that I could never solve, which he believed would destroy me, but the woman working for me stopped him in time and arrested him. He was killed in jail a few months ago. By Kira. The day after that, C went on a rampage. He killed seventeen people in seven days, carving thirteen C's into every victim's body. Thirteen was B's number, not because of its unlucky connotations, but because 1 and 3 put next to each other, 13, look like a capitol B. 'C' was C's letter. Obviously. He was always drawing C's, always eating Cheerios, always collecting things that started with C. They were the strangest two children I have ever known.

"And that, Light-kun, is what Linda said wrong. Wammy's may have no rules in regards to censorship, but there is one taboo, one thing about which no one breathes a word if I am within earshot. B, C, and the madness that the curriculum, _my_ curriculum, created. The blood that, if not on my hands, is on my conscience."

I couldn't say a word.

He looked at me for the first time in about half an hour. His eyes were as dark as always, as deep as always, as endless as always. "I lied before, Light-kun," he said, a fatal finality to his tone and to his words. "I know exactly who has Near and Mello."

* * *

**"It's time to forget about the past, to wash away what happened last.**

**Hide behind an empty face.**

**Don't ask too much, just say, 'cause this is just a game.**

**Everyone's looking at me; I'm running 'round in circles, baby.**

**A quiet desperation's building higher... I've got to remember this is just a game."**

**-Beautiful Lie, 30 Seconds to Mars**


	13. Dictionaries are a Pain

**Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note or Another Note, nor do I own any of the books they talk about in this fic.**

**Edited by Rekhyt!**

* * *

"I-" I didn't know how to respond to that. "Ryuuzaki, I..."

He stood. "Come."

I clambered up hastily and scrambled after him. "Where?"

He ignored me. "Don't tell anyone my theory. It would cause chaos."

"But shouldn't we go after Mello and Near?" Geeze he was walking fast.

"Obviously we first must know where to go."

"Well yeah..."

He was moving more quickly than I had ever seen him move, even including our tennis match a long time ago, and I almost had trouble keeping up. He took us through still more intricate hallways, all identical in every way that _I _could see.

"Ryuuzaki, are you suggesting that C took Mello in order to-"

Our conversation was interrupted by a very old man I immediately knew must be the infamous Roger. This suspicion was confirmed by L stopping dead in his tracks and saying, slowly, "Light-kun, this is Roger. Roger, Light Yagami."

"Nice to meet you," I said in my absolute best English. Which, by the way, was getting very good very fast. Very quickly. Getting very _well_ very quick? Very _good_ very quick? Damn it.

I held out a hand to shake. He took it delicately, distastefully, and barely shook it.

I studied him when he returned his attention to L. He didn't _look_ like a man who had an unfortunate knack for walking in on gay sex. He did, however, look like someone who hated children. And gays. And sex. Why would someone who hated children run an orphanage?

"L, Quillsh-" he glanced at me. "_Watari_ would like to know how you wish to continue the investigation."

For a moment I was sure that L was going to slap him. His face barely changed but he stood up straighter and stared at Roger so fiercely that I was immediately glad it wasn't directed at me. _"_Please tell _Watari_," he said coldly, dangerously, "that I will communicate with him directly. And please refrain, in the future, from saying _both _the real name _and_ the code name of any member of the investigation in the same breath, in front of the main suspect of the case who, incidentally, is _not__ an idiot_."

Roger paled and looked at me again, and then looked at the hand he had just used to shake mine.

"I'm not Kira," I added helpfully.

The old man nodded dumbly, then refocused on L. "I apologize," he murmured. "I didn't realize he was your suspect."

Not like it was obvious or anything. Hadn't Roger known L for long enough to know that he doesn't handcuff himself to everyone he meets? Unless maybe he _did_. I wasn't jealous.

"Go tell Watari that I ask him to contact me on my office computer, and that I will be there shortly."

Roger nodded weakly again and hobbled out of the room.

L rolled his eyes, a surprisingly comical expression for someone who spends a lot of time looking like a panda. When he met my gaze he became serious again.

"I am sorry that I must still suspect you, Light-kun," he said quietly. "But there is still a-"

"I don't want to know the percentage," I interrupted. "Just..." I shook my head, letting my sentence end unfinished. I was so tired of it, of being accused all the time about something I simply _couldn't be_. There was _no way_ I was Kira. Or ever had been.

Alright, so in truth it was possible that I _had_ been Kira... I could understand L's suspicion. Who else but someone like me could do something of that magnitude? And how many other people out there _are_ like me? As arrogant as that sounds... and as arrogant as I do realized I _am_... I also have to be objective. I realized: how come no one ever suspects _Ryuuzaki_ of being Kira? He's the only other person who could do it. Brilliant. Manipulative. Attractive.

Not the time to be thinking about L's attractive ass... I mean attractiveness.

Ryuuzaki- who was _not_ attractive in an incredibly base, animalistic way- looked in another direction. "I understand." It was almost a whisper. I immediately felt a pang of that thing I had recently identified as 'guilt' and for a split second I hated him for causing it. It was the kind of thing Kira should feel, not the innocent Light Yagami.

Suddenly, we were in his office.

It looked like his bedroom, except the walls were a soft blue. I didn't notice the wall color immediately, though, because most of the space was covered in dozens of bookshelves, each crammed with hundreds of books. I didn't even realize that I was dragging L behind me until I was in front of one of these bookcases, staring in amazement.

"That's the first one," he commented politely. "They are alphabetical by title."

Mystery novels. No surprises there.

"Have you read all of these?" I asked, reaching up on my tiptoes to snag a book from its shelf. His sudden fit of concrete-sequentialism was getting to me: I could feel my heart racing.

"Most of them, but not all. There are rather a lot of them."

I looked at the book in my hand. I'd never heard of it. "Is this how you learned your stuff?" I asked him.

He almost laughed. "No, Light-kun. That would be the rest of the shelves." He motioned for me to just put down the book I was holding anywhere, but I was incapable of that. I carefully put it exactly back in its spot, double-checking the alphabetization to make _certain_ it was in the right place. I went utterly tingly when the book slid neatly back where it belonged.

He didn't make fun of me, which was unexpected. He simply watched me with those large, dark, _beautiful_ eyes, by far the brightest and darkest things in the room, and for a second I forgot that I was supposed to be looking at the other shelves he was indicating. For a long time, we just stared at each other.

I caught myself. "Which shelf?"

"All of them, except those two," he said. One of the two was the shelf I had pulled the book from a moment ago.

I removed a book at random. "Criminal profiling," I read in English.

He nodded, a thumb going to the side of his lips. "Yes. One of many. I have always found it interesting. You will also find hundreds of psychology, sociology, law, theater, art, and language books. It is from here, actually, that we supply Igloo. The classics are in that corner."

"Have you read all of _these_?" I asked.

"Yes," he said simply. He smiled gently, his thumb at his lip. "You should see the House library. Mine pales in contrast. If you have ever seen the animated Disney movie _Beauty and the Beast_, you may find our library comparable with the Beast's."

I resisted the urge to whistle appreciatively. That was for Aizawa and Matsuda, which reminded me...

"Watari."

"Right."

The book-induced spell was gone, and we snapped back to the reality of Kira, of Mello and Near.

The familiar whirr of the computer relaxed me instantly. Even the black, gothic 'W' flashing onto the screen, speaking in scrambles _and_ in English, could not upset me.

"L, I'm sure Roger has informed you of our situation," Watari (whose name was apparently Quillsh? Strange name. Says '_Light Imagay_.' Sigh) said over the speakers.

"Just that you wish to consult me about how the investigation should proceed while Light-kun and I are searching for Near and Mello."

"L... are you in your office?" he asked hesitantly.

"Yes, but it is not an issue. Please fill us in."

That's right. A had killed himself in this room. 'A does not equal L.'

"Very well," the garbled voice of Watari said after a moment. "We have managed to narrow the suspects for the current Kira to several men within the Yotsuba Company. Matsuda believes we should take immediate action and arrest all of them, and the Chief seems to agree. I have been doing my best to act how I believe you would act, and I have forbidden any rash or impulsive movements."

"That's good," L said approvingly, in that friendly way with which he only ever addressed Watari.

"I worry, however, that Matsuda or the Chief will attempt to take matters into their own hands."

"Hmm..." L mused. "Matsuda... that is possible. But I believe that Yagami-san will not. Do you agree, Light-kun?"

"Yes," I said to both of them. "My father would never go against orders, unless it went against his personal beliefs _not_ to. In this situation, I would agree that you can say pretty much for certain that my father won't act out of turn."

"Very good," Watari said. "And Matsuda?"

"Keep an eye on him," L instructed.

"Alright. Goodbye."

"Goodbye."

L tapped a few keys and the communication system shut down. "That was unnecessary," L mumbled. He said something about 'pointlessly compromising security' and 'probably Roger.'

I stifled a smile. "Okay," I said, trying to keep the laughter out of my voice. "How do we go about researching a letter?" I asked. "We can't just go to Google and type in 'C.'"

"You are correct. Actually, in this case, a dictionary is going to be more helpful than the internet."

"Why?"

"C's obsession runs deep. He will be at some location that begins or is heavily associated with the letter 'C.' He believes at this moment that I do not know it was him who kidnapped Near and Mello. In a few days, he will drop clues about his identity, and _then_ expect us to look through the dictionary to find him. Ideally, we will get to him _before_ he contacts us- he will not harm the children before that time. In any case, his location will not be overly obscure- he _does_ wish to be found. Half because he wants his plans to succeed and half because, without B, he almost certainly no longer cares to live..."

He reached behind him, barely glancing back, and withdrew a dictionary, which he handed me. He grabbed another and kept it for himself.

"Please go through the Cs and write a list of anything that seems as if it could relate to a possible location for a base of operations. It will most likely be in the United Kingdom or the United States."

"Why those two places?"

"The United Kingdom is where he grew up, and the United States is where B died and where he committed his murders."

"Alright..."

I stared down at the dictionary in my hand. Oh yes, this was going to be fun.

* * *

**"We've seen our share of ups and downs.**

**Oh, how quickly life can turn around in an instant.**

**It feels so good to realize what's in yourself and within your mind,**

**Let's find peace there."**

**-My Sacrifice, Creed**


	14. In Back of a Cab

**Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note or CC Blooms.**

**A/N: CC Blooms is apparently a real place in Edinburgh, UK. After doing some research, I found out that it is 8 hours, driving, from Winchester, which is where they are. I found this place by chance the first time around with this fic and did a lot of research, and this****time I did even **_**more**_** research. Despite how perfectly it lends itself to this fanfic, the stuff I say about it is **_**actually**_** true, from the type of establishment it is to its intended clientele to its name and location. **

**If you own this establishment, please don't kill me, sue me, or be otherwise offended. Any less-than-complimentary statements I may make about CC Blooms are a result only of my research through patron reviews, since I haven't been there.**

* * *

Three hours later, Ryuuzaki and I both had long lists of C-themed potential hideouts. Our lists were almost identical, actually, but when we began to work together we managed to narrow it down to just four probable locations out of the thousands of possible locations. L insisted that it wouldn't be anything more abstract than what we had, though, and since he had _known _C I had to take his word for it.

I also noticed that L's handwriting was a spidery, illegible scrawl compared to my textbook print and beautiful cursive. Just thought that was worth pointing out.

Ryuuzaki stared down at our short compilation and his eyes went wide. "Oh... oh, _no_..."

"What?" I said sharply.

"D..."

"_What_?"

"D... she was a student here too... she was in love with C..."

"Are you serious?" What was wrong with this place?

"No."

I was caught between the desire to smack my forehead and to smack _him_ across the face.

"It was convincing though, was it not?"

"Of course it was. This is _you_ we're talking about," I snapped.

He frowned slightly. "I am a good actor?"

"Exceptionally," I groaned, rubbing my temples. "Don't _do_ that to me, alright? I thought we were going to have to go through all the D's, too, or that we were totally wrong about C..."

He smiled. "Very well," he said innocently. "I will not disrupt Light-kun's delicate psychological homeostasis again in the future."

"My delicate psychological homeostasis and I would appreciate it," I grumbled.

Trying not to laugh, Ryuuzaki looked at the first location on our list. "Club," he read aloud.

"What's a famous club or bar or something in England?" I asked. I turned to look it up at the computer but he interrupted me.

"CC Blooms," he said.

"You just... know that?"

"It's well-known. And... it's somewhere C might have frequented," he finished quickly.

He didn't give me time to question him because he stood up and bolted for the door, dragging me after him. "We are going to a bar, Light-kun. You may not wear a suit."

The thought horrified me. "Why can't I wear a suit?" I asked, appalled. "What _else_ am I supposed to wear in public? I know you've seen me dressed down just walking around the Investigation building, but I couldn't possibly go _out_ like-"

"I saw what you packed. Your long-sleeved black shirt will be sufficient. And you will borrow a pair of blue jeans from me."

"But then we'll practically _match_!" I cried. This was getting worse and worse.

"I will change as well."

"We're going to a bar as two men _handcuffed together_? They'll beat us up!"

"It will not be a problem. Also, we are in England, Light-kun. No one is going to harm us."

"What kind of bar opens at this time of the morning?"

"None that I know of. This one opens at 10:30... do not ask how I know this... and closes at 3 AM. It is a good distance away. I would estimate eight hours. By the time we get there, it will be open."

I searched desperately for a reason not to go. Why would C be at a bar, anyway? It was so unlikely... even if the bar was called CC... Blooms... with _two_ C's... and then a B... and then an L was in there too... dammit. I sighed in defeat.

"Fine. But- and I'm just pointing this out- if the bar is that far away, we're going to be traveling back _really_ early in the morning, and we didn't sleep last night."

He considered it. "This is true. Very well, we can stay at a nearby hotel."

"Will there be hotels near it?"

"Motels, maybe," L mumbled.

"What?"

"Never mind, Light-kun. Get changed."

We were already at his/our room. I really needed to pay more attention when we walked. I kept just _being_ at places all of a sudden.

Once we were inside, he removed our handcuffs and I obediently switched tops to the black one I had brought, and then into the jeans he tossed at me. I hate denim. To my dismay, Ryuuzaki also put on a long-sleeve black shirt. "We're going to stand out if we match," I informed him. _Why_ am I so prissy? And why can't I _help_ it?

"Light-kun, I promise you, we will _not_ stand out. It's probably _better_ that we match."

I became very, very worried about what kind of place this would be.

"Ryuuzaki, how sketchy _is_ this place?"

He didn't answer.

"Am I gonna need eyeliner?" I demanded sarcastically.

"It wouldn't hurt," he said under his breath, reattaching the handcuffs.

"_What_?"

No matter how much I questioned him after that, he wouldn't respond.

Even when we walked to the town nearest Wammy's and hailed a cab, he didn't say a word.

By the way, I didn't put on eyeliner.

When we were seated and our overnight bags were stowed, Ryuuzaki leaned in close to tell the driver where we were going.

The man laughed. "Haha, really? Yeah, there's a _ton_ of hotels, right by it. Nice place, CC's. Went there myself with my-" L gave him a sharp look. "Ah, girlfriend, and we had a great time. Trashy place. Lots of fun. Bit of a drive, though, are you sure you've got the funds?"

"I am sure." L sat back in his seat, pulling his legs up, and stared out the window.

The perfect calm that can only come with understanding slipped over me.

"Ryuuzaki," I said neutrally.

"Yes, Light-kun?"

"CC Bloom's is a gay bar, isn't it."

He sighed. "Yes, Light-kun."

"That's why the handcuffs won't stand out. Because it's a kinky one."

"Yes, Light-kun."

We rode in silence for a while. I couldn't decide how I felt about going to a gay bar. On one hand, I was excited to see what it would be like. I wasn't opposed to seeing guys rubbing up on- I mean, girl on girl action. Plus, I wouldn't have to restrain my oh-so-homosexual tendencies: staring would be allowed, drooling would be allowed, me being a queen (which I am, I know this) would be allowed. Me making moves on Ryuuzaki could be disguised as a disguise... not that I would be doing that. And cross-dressers are fun. We could play 'guess the gender!' On the other hand... there _had_ to be another hand. I couldn't just be _excited, _could I? Oh, I thought of one. Good. On the other hand, I was nervous about the sexual tension that would no doubt arise from staying at a hotel, handcuffed, near a gay bar after being _at_ that gay bar, miles away from Roger or Matt or Watari/Quillsh or anyone else who would care to stop us from being naked.

And the fact that Ryuuzaki hadn't wanted to _tell_ me it was a gay bar? What could that mean? Was he embarrassed? Did he think that I'd refuse to go? Was he hoping we'd get through the night without me _figuring it out?_ I'm not an idiot- he said that himself. I don't need a big sign over the door to tell me that it's a gay bar.

"What's the legal drinking age in England?" I asked him suddenly. Would they let me in?

"Eighteen." The legal drinking age in Japan was twenty. Not that it was well-enforced, but my father being a law-obsessed and a cop and all, I'd never wanted to risk it.

"Oh."

This all assuming we didn't find C. I'd never even seen a picture of C, how was I supposed to know him on sight?

"What does Carlton look like?" I asked casually.

L caught on immediately, just as Matt had. "In all honesty, he appears completely normal. Blond, brown eyes. Very normal features. Slightly taller than average, on the thin side. He is probably much thinner by now since Brutus died. There is something slightly... off... about him, if you look for long enough." He glanced at the driver. "But he's not a bad guy," he amended. "If he decided to actually show up tonight, he'll probably come to us."

"You have a strange taste in men," I told him.

He shrugged. "He is good in bed."

I swallowed my laughter. "But how will he feel about the handcuffs?"

"I imagine he'll be jealous. I've never told him about you."

"We can tell him I'm your brother."

"Why would I be handcuffed to my brother?"

"Maybe you're into that."

"I suppose. But you're much too attractive to convince _him_ of that."

"You know it," I said, pretending to flip my hair.

He smiled. Probably thinking about how much of a queen I am.

The hours passed as quickly as I could have wanted them to, us just talking and laughing, the driver occasionally asserting his opinion or playing music. The cab bill was going to be astronomical, but Ryuuzaki had more money than probably even Kira, creativity incarnate, could imagine, so I wasn't worried.

It was a dark night, but we drove on. The bright lights outside made the little car intimate, close, cozy, and the engine and road noises in the background were soothing. I was exhausted, but the conversation was stimulating enough to keep me awake, and I was certain that I'd never forgive myself for falling asleep and missing Ryuuzaki when he was like this... so...

I didn't have words for it, but I liked it.

Beautiful?

That was close, but it didn't do justice what the cool, calm silver light did to him.

I smiled to myself. Under any other circumstances, what could he and I have been? If we were just two abnormally smart guys who had met, let's say, at a gay bar, where would we be right now? Would that one night have _not_ been a surprise, and instead have come because we were drunk or because we had gone on a few dates together and decided to take the next step? Would it have meant something more to us than 'well, that was awkward, let's make sure that doesn't happen again'? Would it be something I could look back on with a sentimental smile as I held him in my arms years later, and then something I could whisper to him about how we never could have imagined it would end up like this, end up being _forever_?

"Ryuuzaki, in the most abstract of senses... how long is forever?" I asked him quietly, interrupting the comfortable silence.

He chewed on his thumb for a minute, making the chain between us clink. Finally, he said, "I think there is nothing that lasts forever, and so it is impossible to determine."

"Nothing? A Christian would tell you that God lasts forever. A romantic would say that love does."

He looked at me, his dark eyes the exact same color as the night sky but immeasurably lovelier.

"I am neither of those things, Light-kun."

And for some reason, that shot me straight in the heart.

"I know."

The silence was peaceful, but on my end it was tumultuous. I was wrestling with several different emotions at once, and I was unfamiliar with all of them.

I _wasn't_ unfamiliar, however, with keeping a straight face, no matter how I was feeling, and between that and the darkness, Ryuuzaki never knew that I was over here having a crisis.

Love. Hurt. Concern. Confusion. Doubt.

I'm such a queen.

* * *

**"Breathe in, breathe out, tell me all of your doubts.**

**Everybody bleeds this way, just the same.**

**Breathe in, breathe out, move on and break down.**

**If everyone goes away, I will stay.**

**We push and pull and I fall down sometimes,**

**And I'm not letting go.**

**You hold the other line."**

**-Breathe In, Breathe Out, Mat Kearney**


	15. Stakeout

**Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note or any of the songs mentioned. I do own C.**

**A/N: The first time around, this story had 48 chapters. It **_**may**_** have 49 or 50 this time, when/if I add a little more to one of the last bits of the story. But know that the actual storyline is just getting started at this point. :)**

* * *

We pulled up in front of the hotel at about 9:30 PM. The taxi driver, who we were by now very familiar with, helped us with our bags despite the fact that they were smaller than backpacks. He wished Ryuuzaki good luck with 'Carlton' and shooed us off into the hotel.

I allowed myself to zone out during the check-in process, especially when the woman behind the counter looked wide-eyed at our handcuffs. Ryuuzaki straightened it out. I heard 'CC Blooms' in there somewhere, and she was immediately calm. What was I about to walk into? Literally? Did it even matter? I wasn't exactly innocent.

Regardless of my impending doom/erection, our room was on the tenth floor, sixteenth room. 1016. I made a mental note of it just in case Ryuuzaki decided to get so inebriated that he couldn't remember, not that I actually expected that to happen in a million years. If anyone was gonna get shitfaced here, it was going to be me, and even _that_ wasn't likely.

So there would probably be no drunken sex.

That made me a little bit sad.

Although, that left open the possibility of _sober_ sex!

When did I become such a horn-dog?

We put our bags down and I freshened up. I also forced him to run a brush through his hair (do you _want_ creepy guys to hit on you because you have sex-hair?), and by the time we were done CC's was just about to open.

This was not a date, this was an investigation, I reminded myself.

"Light-kun, this is not a date. This is an investigation."

...Creepy how he does that. "I know," I said, as if that were completely obvious and I hadn't just had to remind myself of it. "But if we're going to be undercover, we might as well do it thoroughly."

"We should get in line. It is usually very crowded."

How did he know all this about a gay bar? When the furthest he had gone was rejecting a girl through a note? Well, besides with me, of course.

"Do you... spend a lot of time at gay bars, Ryuuzaki?"

He looked at me as if I were completely insane, a distinct possibility. "Why would I do that, Light-kun? I do not consume alcohol and, as previously stated, I am not a romantic."

"Hey, you're the one who just _knows _all this stuff off the top of his head," I reminded him, not unkindly.

He didn't respond to that, so I didn't press it.

"Ready to go?" I asked.

He nodded, and we made our way to the bar.

CC Bloom's was down the street from our hotel. The moment we approached it, I immediately knew that this was going to be a disaster. The line was incredibly long and I could tell that some of these guys were _way_ out there. Some of the girls too, but they seemed normal, relatively.

A guy in a pink afro wig was standing behind us, and he wasn't even hiding the fact that he was checking out my ass. Not that I _really_ minded, but he was crazy if he thought I'd let a guy like _him _top me. Scrawny, short. Definitely a bottom. Thus, there was no reason for him to be looking at my _ass_. Now, Ryuuzaki topping me? Maybe. He's the kind of guy you would have to trade off with... take turns with...

Okay, coming back from _that_ train of thought before it went too far.

I groaned- we weren't even inside the building yet.

The time was announced by sudden blasting music and the abrupt movement of the line. Ten-thirty. We entered with the crowd, being bumped around and, I'm fairly certain, fondled/groped more than once. Ryuuzaki completely ignored a really big guy that blatantly grabbed his butt, but I made sure to give the man the hairy eyeball. Mine.

...No he wasn't! ...This was a catastrophe of epic proportions.

He never stopped looking for C.

"A drink, Gareth?" L asked me distractedly.

"Uh, yeah, sure." I guess 'Gareth' _did_ sound less like a stripper name than 'Light.' My name is so screwed up. It's enough to give a guy a complex. "But," I said, turning on my best 'sexy' face, "only if you're buying... Raoul." Ha, I know the Gay Barbie Song, too. Take _that_.

I saw L struggle to not look at that face. "But of course," he said.

Speak of the devil...

The Barbie Song started blasting over the speakers as Ryuuzaki and I took some seats at the bar. I couldn't help but hum along with the song. I didn't know the exact words in English, but the tune was the same. I was hungry, but they didn't serve food and I sure as Hell wasn't going to be eating out of the communal mixed nuts bowl. Not even if I was dying.

L ordered something with a name I didn't catch, but when the bartender gave it to him I knew immediately that it was extremely sweet. The man reappeared a little while later with something significantly more no-nonsense-looking and handed it to me. I knew nothing about alcohol, but I assumed that Ryuuzaki wouldn't order me something that would have me instantly flat on my ass.

One taste told me this wasn't so.

"What _is_ this?" I hissed to him as it burned down my throat.

"Nurse it."

"...What?" How the hell was I supposed to nurse a drink? I assumed it was an idiom, but the image was preposterous (as most idioms are). Either I was expected to breast-feed a glass of alcohol, or I was expected to put a Band-aid on it. I might be able to do the second one if I had to.

He told me in Japanese to make the one drink last the whole night.

_Oh_.

Some guy slinked up to us. "Japanese boy, huh?" he slurred to L, getting way too close. "Pretty dark eyes, pretty dark hair. Yeah, I 'kin see it."

He looked at me, (you know, the one who actually _was _Japanese?) and raised an eyebrow, then back at Ryuuzaki.

"Wait, what? Are you two dykes in drag or somethin'?"

I don't look like a girl, okay? Just no.

Ryuuzaki, however, was significantly more amused.

"Can't be. _You're_ a dude, no question. Wanna come with me, baby? I'll show you a good time." He leaned in closer and, I imagine, told L exactly how good of a time he would have.

Ryuuzaki was no longer amused.

The guy was bent over right in front of me, so I took opportunity where it was offered. "You have cum leaking out of your ass," I informed him flatly.

He straightened right up, got the hint, figured out we weren't two lesbians in drag or two guys who wanted _him_, and left us the fuck alone.

There was nothing leaking out of his ass, by the way. At least nothing _I_ could see.

"So," I said. "Raoul. How do we stake out this place for Carlton?"

"Just keep your eyes open," he said quietly.

"But until then?" I asked innocently, trying to casually gesture with my head at the dance floor that was crawling with partially naked people. For some reason the OCD (if not the hygiene-freak) in me was completely smothered here, which was refreshing. It had probably become overwhelmed and just given up. I was going to take advantage of this if he let me.

He shook his head. "This is not a date," he said again. His big eyes scanned the room as he chewed on his thumb. He needed to not do that when my mind was already on assorted unholy things because of the setting. It was making my pants shrink.

"Don't do that," I told him, touching his wrist to pull it down from his lips. "That's not a safe gesture here unless you want to take it up the ass."

I'm such a shithead. I immediately regretted what I'd said. I was a college student: these were the kinds of things we said every day. But he wasn't. He wasn't quite an _adult_ in any but the most literal sense of the word, but in his environment people didn't say things like that. Dammit. And it wasn't _supposed_ to be a reference to the fact that he _had_ taken it up the ass. Recently. From me.

_The blurry man straightened up, holding the black notebook, and turned, walking back in his original direction._

"Again, Gareth? But we just left the hotel."

Okay, so maybe he was _more_ of a teenager than I was. This was like my high school lunch table.

"Please don't ask for that right now," he said, turning big, pleading eyes on me. "You know I can't turn you down, but it still hurts from earlier..."

I wanted to grab him and gentle him and tell him that I wouldn't hurt him and that we didn't have to do anything he didn't want to do, ever, and then I remembered that he was just screwing with my already-struggling brain as a way to kill time.

Well fine. I could play too. Besides, this was as close to what I _wanted_ as I was ever going to _get_.

"Raoul, you asked for it rough. The same way you can't turn me down, I can't turn _you_ down. I never wanted to hurt you."

The face that always worked on Misa wasn't working on him. The sincere voice, the urgent lean forward, the honest eyes... I'd have to take it up a notch. Fake sincerity, charisma, and convincing people that I wanted nothing more in the world than to talk to _them_ were my main skills; I had cultivated them since I was nine. My techniques had changed, but now I could just use my rather fabulous body to get what I wanted when I couldn't _think_ my way into it, which didn't happen often. Generally speaking, it went well.

I made my entire posture earnest, overacting so much that for all the world I appeared dead serious. "Gareth... I love you. How could you think I would ever force you, ever demand your body when you were in pain?"

As good as I was, Ryuuzaki was my match. He turned his head away, casting his gaze down, and fiddled nervously with his fingers. "You did, once," he said, barely audibly, looking exactly like a woman. "That one time," he whispered.

Abusive? Alright, I could swing that.

"No," I whispered fiercely, seizing him by the chin and 'forcing' him to look at me. I didn't pull hard and he didn't resist, which assured me that he knew what was going on.

_The blurry figure was making his way home. He sat down at his desk, leaning over the notebook, his head resting on one hand as he looked at it._

"You asked for that," I hissed, hardening my features into a scowl. I spoke through clenched teeth. "You know you did. You were out with _him_ and _that's_ why it hurt, you little whore. I had to _teach_ you, so I had to make it hurt _more_. You know you only learn when you get hurt."

"Please, no," he whimpered, completely pathetically, doing a flawless impression of a beaten panda cub. "Please, Gareth... I love you too. Only you. Tomas was nothing, just a fuck... you were out of town... I pretended he was you... I was calling out _your_ name the whole time..."

The bartender was starting to watch us, frowning, so I released Ryuuzaki's face and smiled.

"We're gonna get the parts," L said confidently.

"Totally. Look, we even convinced _him_." I gestured at the suspicious man, who promptly relaxed.

"It's true, you did," the bartender said, laughing. "I was worried about you there, 'Raoul.'"

"Thank you, but I assure you, it was just a rehearsal." He smiled and my heart sped up. "Day two of tryouts is tomorrow," he added conspiratorially.

"Ha-ha, well, good luck. I'm sure you'll do great."

"Thanks!" L said, and I had to admit, it was the best acting he'd done all night. He managed to look completely happy, when I knew for a fact he was still worried sick, and flamingly gay, when I knew he was... well, L.

"Wanna go dance?" I asked him cheerfully.

He sent me a glare that no one else would see, put his drink down next to mine, winked at the bartender, and followed me onto the dance floor.

The song currently playing was some random rave music, perfect for what I had in mind but not ideal for getting Ryuuzaki to participate. This was a problem, as there was no point unless he was going to do it too. There were plenty of hot guys out here who would be more than willing, but none of them were Ryuuzaki.

But this wasn't a date. Mello. Near. Broken, helpless _Matt_. ...Shattered, terrified Ryuuzaki, who, it was easy to forget, was writhing in guilt and fear and worry, because he was just so damn good at hiding it.

"You haven't seen Carlton, have you?" I asked him quietly. We were standing (and slouching) on the edge of where people were dancing, not dancing.

"No, I have not," he said in a low, calm voice. "I do not wish to dance, Gareth."

_You_ try resisting when the one you lo-LIKE tells you something so sincerely that it makes your heart ache. I knew it wasn't about the dancing- he could barely _stand_. "Yeah, of course," I said agreeably. "We should get away from that bartender, though. This way?"

He nodded wordlessly and followed me.

I found a small, slightly sticky (please let that be from a sugary drink...) table just as it was being abandoned by two women. The music was a little quieter here, but barely.

I scanned the room, pausing on anyone who was normal-looking and had blond hair. There were a few people who matched that description, but none of them were C, and I knew it. First off, they were all with other guys, which C couldn't do unless it was B, just as Matt couldn't unless it was Mello, and I couldn't unless it was... um... anyway, none of them were C. Plus, when I stared at them, none of them were 'off.' These were just people having a good time.

"Raoul, it's already past midnight. I don't think he's coming," I said sincerely.

"We should stay the whole time."

"Alright," I sighed.

As tired as I was, I was more worried about him. He looked dead...er... and he must be exhausted from crying as much as he had that one night. That was last night. Wow, it wasn't long ago at all.

I watched him watch his surroundings. Even as worn out as he must have been, his eyes were bright, his movements were controlled, his mind was not wandering. I guess that's what being an insomniac (for all intents and purposes) does to you. Maybe you just get used to it.

I, however, was not trained to run for forty-eight hours without sleep. I took to drinking soda after caffeinated soda to stay awake, and even then I was drooping.

He looked at me but didn't say a word.

I thought I saw a glimmer in his eyes of something that might have been approval or pride, but I was too tired to try and interpret it.

Three AM, closing time, AKA C's-not-coming time, couldn't come fast enough.

* * *

**"You! I wanna take you to a gay bar!**

**I wanna take you to a gay bar,**

**I wanna take you to a gay bar, gay bar, gay bar!"**

**-Gay Bar, Electric Six**

* * *

**A/N: My evidence from canon that L is a good actor comes from when he is getting Matsuda out of Yotsuba, calling him and saying, 'is your wallet in **_**big trouble**_** again?' Also... geeze, you'd **_**have**_** to be a good actor to have such an expressionless face.**


	16. Mostly Asleep

**Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note, CC Blooms, or any songs. I do own C.**

* * *

Half an hour. This place would be closed in half an hour, and then we could...

Well, we could _what_, exactly? Sleep? Unlikely. Yes, I was just about to collapse from exhaustion, but I had by that time consumed about three pitchers worth of an American import soda that Ryuuzaki had called "Mountain Dew" (explaining to me its Japanese equivalent) and I was practically vibrating. I managed to restrain myself because I knew he still wouldn't want to dance (because this was not a date), but outside of jumping to my feet and doing laps around the establishment, dancing was the only thing I knew of that could expend this excess energy.

If I didn't calm down, someone was going to ask me where I got such good meth. And then I'd point to some random guy, and they'd go to him and ask to buy meth and the random guy I picked would be like 'what the fuck?' and I'd laugh.

This is why I don't drink caffeinated soda!

I watched the people who_ were_ dancing like a hawk, trying not to leer too obviously. I didn't want to _attract_ anyone; I wanted to be _over_ there.

Ryuuzaki, of course, saw me staring.

"Hey... we could both go up there. You don't have to dance; I know you don't want to. I wouldn't do this, but there's more caffeine in my veins than there is blood right now and I _think_ I'm gonna explode."

"I am certain you will not explode, but if you wish we may go over there. It is only fair- I've kept you seated for four hours now and you have not complained."

"Are you gonna dance too?"

He blinked at me. "...I suppose one dance couldn't hurt. Carlton might be dancing, and it would be a good opportunity to inconspicuously view the area we cannot see from here."

But I saw the ghost of a smile on his thin lips.

He was deceptively strong... deceptively attractive... could he be a deceptively good dancer? It was possible. After all, this was _L_...

"Great!" I tried and failed to not spring to my feet. He followed, decidedly less enthusiastic.

They had the hamster dance in England too? Cool. Unfortunately it came to an end just as we got up there. There was a pause in the music.

Then-

_'When you love someone, you'll do anything.  
You'll do all the crazy things that you can't explain.  
You'll shoot the moon, put out the sun,  
When you love someone.'_

Everyone around us had coupled up and was slow dancing, holding someone tight. I hadn't reacted quickly enough. By this point it would be too awkward to just leave and sit back down, especially handcuffed as we were.

I'm sure I blushed, but it was dark enough that it wouldn't be obvious.

So I held out a hand.

He looked at me, but only for a second before taking it.

_...The blurry figure was frowning to itself, although its features weren't visible, and rolling its eyes..._

I shook my head to clear it.

_'You'll deny the truth, believe a lie.  
There'll be times that you'll believe you can really fly.'_

I pulled L into slow-dance position, leading because _he _sure didn't know how to. He didn't step on my feet, though, which is more than I can say for some of the _girls_ I've dated.

_'But your lonely nights have just begun  
When you love someone.'_

I smiled at Ryuuzaki, and he smiled back. He wasn't terrible; he wasn't even _bad_, really.

_'When you love someone, you feel it deep inside,  
And nothing else can ever change your mind.'_

I had my hands on his hips, and, after a moment, he slipped his arms over my shoulders. Just like a girl. I'd have to tease him about that later.

_'When you love someone, you'll sacrifice.  
You'd give it everything you got and you won't think twice. _

_You'd risk it all, no matter what may come...'_

We weren't making eye contact now, that was for sure. Was it because he loved me? Or was it just because he knew _I_ loved _him_?

Because I did. I really, really did.

Either way, whether _he_ loved _me_ or not, whether he knew or not, he felt right in my arms. I was going to hold him for every second that he'd give me of this approximately four-minute song. I'd also hold him a few seconds after that, and a few seconds after _that_, and then a few seconds after even that- as long as he let me until he pulled away. If he never pulled away, I'd hold him forever, despite the fact that he's not a romantic and nothing lasts forever.

I wanted to express that, but I didn't know the words. Besides, he was looking for C.

_' ...when you love someone.'_

"Alright folks, CC's will be closing in ten minutes," the DJ said in a distinctly announcer-type voice. "Everybody please move on to the next bar."

There was a low rumble of laughter and people started to leave, kissing each other goodbye, leaving with people they had come with, leaving with _new_ people. Ryuuzaki and I followed.

He was holding my hand.

Ah... f... and the... cherry blossom festival... pumpkins... with the four gigabyte rhinoceros...

My brain was short-circuiting and I felt more than mildly brain damaged, but I managed to speak.

"So you didn't see him," I said as coherently as possible as we made our way back to the hotel. I was a little anxious about walking around at night holding a guy's hand- _handcuffed_ to him, no less- but L didn't seem worried so I tried to relax.

"No," Ryuuzaki agreed. "He did not appear. I cannot decide whether I am relieved or concerned."

"I'd recommend relief. Roger would have called if C had contacted you, so really, nothing's changed. We just don't have to have any kind of epic battle in a classic-trashy gay bar that's eight hours away from _our_ base of operations," I replied. "There really are much more dramatic settings," I added matter-of-factly.

"This is true," he agreed sagely. We were back at our hotel in one piece, gay-bash-free. My skull was still in its preordained plates; it wasn't shattered all over the pavement and, more importantly, neither was Ryuuzaki's. So it was all good.

Besides the people behind the reception desk, there was no one around. Obviously- it was past three in the morning. What decent people are still awake at this hour? _I_ wouldn't be if I wasn't investigating a kidnapping and handcuffed to someone who never slept.

Back in our room, we had a bit of a sexual tension dilemma. There was no way the chain would be long enough for us to sleep in the separate beds. My simultaneously fried and over-stimulated brain couldn't quite figure out a solution to this other than to just lay down face first on the nearest soft surface and lose consciousness.

On the other hand, literally, there was Ryuuzaki. Because he still hadn't let go.

I really wanted to sleep. And I mean... I _really_ wanted to sleep. BUT I also wanted to keep holding his hand.

"Ryuuzaki?" I said. "Is there any way I can sleep without letting go of your hand?"

He stared at me for a moment. He must have realized that between the Mountain Dew crash, the sleep deprivation, and that _dance_, I was pretty far from my normal mental capabilities.

"I intend to sleep tonight," he told me. "We can..." he cut himself off. "I can hold your hand as we do."

I'm pretty sure I smiled like a three-year-old just then. Pretty sure. I nodded agreeably and did what my body had commanded earlier- I let go of his hand (defeating the purpose of the whole thing), laid down on my face, fully clothed, on top of the hotel quilts that they don't wash every time, and fell very, very solidly asleep.

* * *

No matter how tired I am, I _always_ wake up when someone touches me. I didn't know how much time had passed, since I had been asleep, but Ryuuzaki was climbing into bed next to me. I felt his cool fingers entwining with mine.

_...The blurry figure was flipping through pages, and now flipping back to the front inside cover. He laughed, finding something preposterous..._

I smiled into my pillow. "Hi," I mumbled.

"Light-kun, you are awake?"

"Sorta," I said, so very eloquently. I was barely conscious, mostly asleep, my mind fuzzy and heavy, slow.

"Light-kun," Ryuuzaki said slowly.

"Uh?" Geeze, I couldn't even force out a full 'huh.'

"Light-kun, I ask you this now only because your defenses are down."

"'Kay."

"Light-kun," he paused. That had been the third time he'd said my name. I felt my arm moving and not by my command, felt my fingers brush his chin, felt his lips meet my fingers. I could feel his breath and, despite the fact that I didn't fully compute anything, my heart sped up a little. "Are you Kira?"

Kira was that serial killer, right? Was Light Kira? Uh, I mean, was I Kira? No, I wasn't Kira. Why would he think I was Kira?

"Silly," I informed my pillow. "'Course not. Kira's a bad guy. I'm Light-kun Yagami-san-kun."

That made sense, right? Well, it had in my head. Yeah, I was pretty sure that made sense.

He still hadn't said anything.

"I 'dun remember... did I answer the question?" I garbled.

"Yes. Thank you. You may go back to sleep."

"Okay, love you, goodnight."

Shit. Even mostly asleep I knew _that_ wasn't what I was supposed to say. I tried to curse myself out, but just as I collected my brain enough to tell myself 'you're a-' I fell asleep.

* * *

I don't know if I dreamed it or not, but I heard his voice saying the words back.

* * *

I woke up at noon the next day to find him on a laptop that he had apparently spawned from nowhere. There was also room service. He must have un-cuffed himself and ordered it, seeing that, Kira or not, I was totally dead to the world (I didn't even wake up for sounds!). I saw the remains of strawberry pancakes. Next to it was a plate of eggs and sausage, completely untouched.

Clearly for me.

"Writing or working?" I asked him cheerfully.

Judging by how he slammed the computer closed- exactly like he had the first time- he was writing. He didn't bother denying it.

"Good morning, Light-kun. Writing."

I was right. Notice my complete lack of surprise.

"What time did you wake up?"

"Five AM."

"But we weren't in bed until three-thirty," I protested mildly, struggling into a seated position, hooking the room service cart with my foot and dragging it towards me.

It was cold, not surprisingly, but I hadn't eaten since breakfast at Wammy's, which was like a million years ago. It tasted fantastic.

"I got a little sleep," he said quietly.

"Okay." I backed off and munched contentedly on my sausage.

... Not a word.

* * *

**"At times I just don't know how you could be anything but beautiful.  
**

**I think that I was made for you and you were made for me.**

**And when you hold me tight how could life be anything but beautiful?"**

**-Beautiful, Gordon Lightfoot**


	17. Superfluous Pandas

**Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note.**

* * *

"Do you wish to shower, Light-kun?"

...I'd have to talk to him about that, right after I made fun of him for dancing with me like a girl. He seriously can't go around saying things like that, because it was giving me issues in regions that I'd rather not have perpetual issues in. Being around him was having that effect on me.

...Shit, I had told him I loved him last night, hadn't I! Dammit!

"Uh, well, yeah," I admitted. I really did want a shower. It had been a while now, and I had slept fully clothed and all, sweating out all that soda like some kind of addict in withdrawal.

Too late, I realized that hotel showers are significantly smaller than the specially-built shower back in our room of the Kira Investigation Building.

Crap.

But it was too late to back out, so I just waited for him to remove the handcuffs, stripped (trying not to look at him as he did the same), and waited for him to put them back on.

I set about memorizing the ceiling. For a moment I caught myself wishing that I wasn't so smart because the process only took about two seconds. I'd never had to study in my life, but sometimes I had done it just for something to do, and so I could honestly tell my parents that I had. They didn't need to know exactly how smart I _really_ was.

I turned on the stream, waiting for it to warm up. Not only were cold showers unpleasant, but they would cause shrinkage and in front of _him_ that wasn't something I wanted. He'd seen all of me, multiple times, but still.

When it was warm (not hot- I don't want to go bald before it's absolutely unavoidable) I stepped in and got as close to the wall as I could.

He followed me, and there was _not_ a lot of room.

"Excuse me," I chuckled. He flattened himself to another wall so that I could get under the stream for a moment to wet myself down. When I had, I moved so he could too. I soaped up as he soaked, then we switched _again_. It was like a significantly less graceful form of the dancing we had done last night- or this morning, technically. We were really good at it though; we didn't even have to talk to indicate when we wanted to switch. I couldn't help but laugh a little.

He tilted his head, not having to ask out loud.

"We're just good at this, and I think it's funny."

"We are very intelligent. I would expect nothing less of us," he said mock-solemnly, nodding sagely.

I laughed out loud and slipped around him, and we traded places for the next step in the hygienic process.

I had the sudden, nearly-uncontrollable urge to say 'don't drop the soap,' but I was sure that would be in poor taste. Instead, I channeled the very awkward statement into something that was probably _less_ awkward. "No one ever taught you how to really wash your hair, did they?" I asked him.

He shook his sopping wet mop in negation, flinging little water droplets on the inside walls of the shower and the back of the curtain.

"Okay, here. Let me do it and you'll figure it out."

"Why does it matter?"

"This is better for your hair," I informed him, squirting shampoo into my palms.

"Do I smell unpleasant?" he asked. There may have been a hint of concern in his tone.

"Not at all. But doing things right will make your hair easier to take care of."

He rolled his eyes. "Light-kun, you _do_ understand that I will not spend any significant length of time on my hair, no matter what you say...?"

"Well, this will make it easier to _brush_. Which I know you do sometimes- I've seen it."

The prospect of spending even _less_ time on his appearance apparently intrigued him, because he shrugged and allowed me.

Facing him, I reached up and lightly palmed the shampoo into his hair. I massaged it into his scalp with my fingertips and _not_ my nails, the way you're supposed to.

_...The blurry figure lay down on its back, arms folded behind its head..._

When I looked at Ryuuzaki, his eyes were half-closed. He looked like a lump.

I laughed. "Feels good, huh?"

He nodded.

I worked it into a full-out lather and technically I was done, but he looked so cute that I didn't want to stop. I massaged it a little more and, I couldn't help it, leaned in and pecked him on the lips.

He smiled and opened his eyes. He still didn't say a word.

"Rinse," I commanded him, retracting my hands. As he obeyed, I explained what I had done and how it was different, and then went off on a tangent about why it was important that he did it regularly. He looked amused but he wasn't exactly taking notes. I knew he'd remember it whether he cared to or not, his memory was exactly as good as mine, but would he _apply_ it...?

"If you don't do this next time, I'll know," I reminded him. "I'll be right here and I'll make sure to enforce it."

He rolled his eyes. Again.

"You know, your eyes will get stuck like that if you keep rolling them."

"Whatever you say, Light-kun."

"Exactly. And what I say is, wash your hair like this in the future."

"Whatever you say, Light-kun," he repeated.

As we got out and dried off, I noticed something on him that I'd never seen before. A long, thin, white scar from the top of his left shoulder, across his back, and down, ending at the small of it. How had I not noticed that? Oh, right. He had been on his back. Right.

He turned to drape the towel over the rim of the tub of the shower and I got a very good look at it. I reached out and brushed the tips of my fingers over where it intersected his spine. Any deeper and he could have been dead, or paralyzed. It looked like an incision, but no surgical scar would be in that position, that long.

_...The figure was staring from the bed at the notebook on the desk..._

He shivered. Pretending he hadn't, he asked, "Yes, Light-kun?"

"What happened to you?" I whispered.

He didn't answer immediately. He turned around and looked at me, straight in the eye despite the fact that we were both naked.

"As I told you yesterday," he said quietly, "B was very, very cruel."

I could only stare, stunned. Ryuuzaki had said that B tortured insects and animals, not that he went around _knifing_ people. And judging by the smoothness of the cut, he had used a scalpel _and_ L would have had to have been immobilized, probably tied down...

"_When_?" I breathed.

"After he left Wammy's, before he was put in jail," he answered simply. He didn't want to talk about it.

"What... did he _do_?"

I knew that, had I been anyone else, Ryuuzaki wouldn't have answered that question. But he did because I was. "He tied me down. He cut me. He told me everything I least needed to hear."

I looked at the floor. "Oh."

Of course, my mind was swarming with questions. How had it happened? When, specifically? How had B gotten him alone? How had L gotten away? I knew it would be pushing it but that I could ask one more thing. I had to choose very carefully.

"Who else knows?" I asked quietly.

He was brushing his hair just like I had asked him to, a sight so rare and strange that it sent a twinge of pain and affection through my heart. "No one," he said finally.

There wasn't a single thing I could say to that.

* * *

One hour later, we were both dressed and exiting the hotel. I recognized some of the people in the lobby from CC's and did my best to avoid eye contact, but all-in-all the ride home was unremarkable.

We had a different cab driver, of course. This one was a lot less friendly, but that just left me more time to talk to Ryuuzaki, which was fun.

It was as if, now that he was clothed, the scar didn't exist. It was like he had no past again, was just as anonymous as he had been before I knew, as if he had popped out of nowhere, fully-grown. I wouldn't be surprised if he had. I couldn't picture him as a child.

When I expressed this sentiment, he chewed on his thumb. "Unfortunately, no photographs of me exist, adolescent or otherwise. If they did, I would be glad to show them to you. I am told I looked rather like a panda."

"You _still_ look like a panda," I enlightened him.

"I do not," he protested.

"Yes you do. Have you ever seen a panda? I'm _Japanese_. I know my pandas."

"I am aware of the physical attributes of a panda, Light-kun," Ryuuzaki said curtly. "I am also remarkably intelligent. If there were any similarities between myself and such a creature, I am sure I would have noticed them."

"Dark around the eyes."

"That is not enough to say that I look like a panda."

"Black and white."

"..."

"Have you ever seen a panda stand up straight? I haven't."

"Very well!" he interrupted me, the force of his exasperation weakened by the smile playing with the corners of his lips. "I capitulate."

"I hold in high esteem your facility for superfluous verbiage, Ryuuzaki," I said (superfluously), "but I hardly think the word 'capitulate' was at all necessary in this situation."

He shrugged. "Perhaps not. Regardless, your English really is remarkable."

"Thank you."

"Have you noticed that the word 'superfluous' is itself superfluous?" he mused.

I laughed. "Well, I'm glad you accept that you do, in fact, look like a panda."

He smiled mischievously. "And you, Light-kun, look like an Abercrombie and Fitch mannequin."

"Damn straight I do."

Needless to say, the trip was enjoyable.

We made it back to Wammy's (the cab dropping us off a few blocks away to maintain the orphanage's discretion) at about seven PM.

* * *

We had dinner (I forced him- we had traveled through lunch) with Matt (who was still pretty much a zombie) and Dane and Linda (who weren't speaking for some reason), and then finally went back up to Ryuuzaki's office to check the list again.

The next word was 'cold.'

It had been his suggestion, so I wasn't sure what his reasoning had been. "Cold? What about cold?"

"There are different climate regions in the United States," he explained. "I speculate that C could have chosen one of them."

"That's so general, though. You said that he _wants_ us to find him- 'cold' could be _anywhere_. It's entirely-"

A knock on the door interrupted us. "L?" a female voice said.

"Enter."

The door swung open to reveal a woman holding a plate. I'd never seen her but Ryuuzaki apparently recognized her because he nodded. "For Igloo?"

"Yes. Mary tried to starve him out but he's just not cooperating. He really _is_ going to stay in that igloo, even if it kills him. I know it's kind of a cruel tactic, but it's just so cold out there that I worry about him." She shrugged. "Anyway, he likes you two. Could you bring this to him?"

"Yes..." L croaked, taking the plate. The woman smiled and left the room.

He looked at me the moment she was gone.

I stood up. "Let's go," I said tightly.

As we rushed down the hallway, flying past all the architecture that was so mind-blowingly incredible, I asked Ryuuzaki, "Did C ever meet Igloo?"

L shook his head. "Not that I know of. But he was able to kidnap Mello without waking Matt, and to kidnap Near who was probably not asleep. He was a Wammy's child- he is no fool."

"But it wasn't snowing when they were taken. How could C have known?"

"I don't know."

We were at an all-out sprint by the time we made it through the labyrinth that Wammy's House tried to pass off as hallways. Images of red snow, of bloody handprints on the edges of a mostly-smashed igloo flashed through my mind, of pages and pages of Hungarian text fluttering in the wind, held down by collapsed igloo bricks, of Igloo's small, well-layered body lying still, face down, his slashed face pressed into the crack of the blood-streaked book the fluttering pages came from...

The bitter cold chilled me to the bone as we raced out the door into the frigid night air, clinging to me like dew, sinking down deep and settling into my marrow. And _I_ had shoes. Ryuuzaki was, as always, barefoot.

"Igloo!" we both shouted as we approached his temporary home, throwing ourselves to the ground to peer into the darkness.

...to find him smiling at us from the entrance. "Szia! Hogy van?"

"Egészséges," Ryuuzaki mumbled. He pushed himself up from the ground, so I got up too. "Viszlát."

"Viszlát."

Clueless, I followed Ryuuzaki as he walked back into the building. When we finally returned to his room, he started massaging his bluing feet, trying to return circulation to them. I would have offered to help but I could tell he wasn't in the mood.

"Of course he couldn't have known," L growled to no one in particular. "C. He couldn't have known that the child Igloo and 'cold' were actually related. Mello is not mellow. Near is not near. We panicked. It was a forced conclusion. We must not do that again," L said coldly. (Ouch, word choice.) I couldn't tell if he was mad at himself for panicking or at me for not stopping him. Or some combination of both. After all, he did tell me that his judgment may be compromised and that I should keep an eye on him.

When his feet had recovered, he wiggled his creepy Ponyo toes.

"You could have gotten frostbite out there."

He shrugged. "Had Igloo been gone, my feet would have been a small price to pay for early detection."

I tried to imagine Ryuuzaki in a wheelchair. "But how would you pull your knees up to you if you had no feet? Your deductive reasoning ability would decrease by nearly forty percent!" I said, pretending to be horrified.

He acknowledged the humor but did not laugh or smile.

"Light-kun, please accompany me to my office for a moment. I will retrieve the list so that I may work on it while you sleep tonight."

We got the list, came back, and then I stripped down to my boxers. I climbed into bed, watching him closely. It was the earliest he had ever let me retire... something had to be terribly wrong. Well, more wrong than what had_ already_ gone wrong. He settled into bed next to me on his stomach, his chin propped up on pillows so he could see his laptop screen without straining his neck. Even though he wasn't going to sleep, it was nice that he was lying with me.

Almost unconscious, I asked him, "What were the other two words again?"

I don't know why I asked it- I could remember them. Maybe I just wanted him to talk- I might be able to judge his mindset by his voice. It was often the most expressive part of him (which was saying something), although he lied fluently with it and could make it as monotone as he chose at a moment's notice.

"'Cult' and 'castle,'" he supplied. "In the morning, we will continue our investigation."

Ah, it was monotone. I was right- he was more upset about jumping to 'cold' conclusions than he was letting the casual observer know.

"Okay."

Just before my mind tipped me over into delta waves, just at that terrible point where everything is nightmarish and confusing, Ryuuzaki spoke.

"Light-kun, are you Kira?"

Hadn't he already asked me that? Did he ask me that every time I went to bed? Was he going to be doing that often in the future? Because it was annoying and I was scared I'd say yes, even though I wasn't, if I kept noticing similarities between Kira and myself.

"No," I said firmly. "I'm not."

"Very well," he said softly. "Goodnight."

I double-checked myself. This time I definitely did _not_ tell him I loved him.

Good, because while he let me hold him, let me kiss him occasionally, and while we truly were handcuffed together, it was probably the last thing he wanted to hear a second time.

* * *

**"I tear my heart open, I sew myself shut.  
**

**My weakness is that I care too much,  
**

**And my scars remind me that the past is real.  
**

**I tear my heart open just to feel.  
**

**I tried to help you once against my own advice.  
**

**I saw you going down, but you never realized  
**

**That you're drowning in the water, so I offered you my hand.  
**

**Compassion's in my nature.  
**

**Tonight is our last stand."**

**-Scars, Papa Roach**

* * *

**A/N: What L and Igloo said, according to the internet: "Hello! How is he (how are you)?" "Healthy. Goodbye." "Goodbye."**


	18. I Spy

**Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note or Another Note. I do own Dane, C, and Igloo.**

**Edited by Rekhyt**

* * *

When I woke up the next morning, the first thing I saw was condoms.

Condoms.

There were... I counted... _thirteen_ of them, stuck firmly and proudly to the ceiling, directly above where I lay on my back, staring at them.

I wasn't a stranger to condoms, but I had never woken up to them on a ceiling, and it was just strange.

Alright, so it was time to think about this. Why would there be condoms stuck to a ceiling? The first thing that popped into my mind was that it had to have been one of the Wammy kids, ever-so-lovingly reminding Ryuuzaki and me to 'be safe.' It was because of the handcuffs, wasn't it. But seriously, you'd think that kids like these would have transcended homophobia, especially as inundated with it as they were. It wasn't a great explanation, but I didn't have any other ideas.

L had apparently fallen asleep face first in the pillow. Since his laptop hadn't even gone to screensaver yet, it probably hadn't been long.

"Ryuuzaki," I said calmly, more puzzled than anything else at this point.

His eyes opened. There was no grogginess, he merely looked at me, fully alert, and blinked. "Light-kun."

"Look up," I said reasonably, indicating the ceiling.

He rolled over and looked.

He blinked.

"Light-kun? Why are there prophylactics on my ceiling?"

"I don't know. They were there when I woke up."

"I see." He shook his head. "Perhaps Dane..." he muttered, squirming into a seated position. "I shall inform a trustworthy member of the cleaning staff that this was not our doing, and ask them to clean it up in confidence."

"Alright."

It really was quite a sight. I wondered what they had used to stick them up there, but I decided that I didn't really want to know, at least until they were gone and I didn't have to be staying in this room anymore.

"The day is wasting, Light-kun, and, although I know you fantasize about being allowed an hour 'making yourself attractive' in the restroom and _I_ fantasize about not needing to even brush my teeth, I am willing to compromise with twenty minutes. Those minutes, however, begin now," he said innocently.

I jumped out of bed and dashed to the attached bathroom, determined to make the most of every second, dragging him along behind me.

I came to a dead stop in the doorway.

"Light-kun?" L asked from behind me.

But I couldn't move.

There was a knife placed on the counter of the sink and several deep cuts in the porcelain. Ryuuzaki gently moved me to one side (_the blur stood up_) so that he could get through to see what had spooked me.

He ran his fingers over the slices, measuring their depth with a fingernail. "There are thirteen. As there were thirteen condoms. As, if we were to ignore this message, there would be thirteen of the next C object."

A chill ran down my spine. It meant that C had been here while we were asleep. L had said that Wammy's had some of the most advanced security systems in the world, once it was fully locked down. Something else occurred to me and this time the shudder shook my whole body.

"Ryuuzaki, what time would you estimate that you fell asleep?"

"Approximately one o'clock," he said immediately.

"Is your laptop on a timer?"

"To 'fall asleep' when it is not being used? Yes. It should initiate a screensaver after fifteen idle minutes."

"How... how would it wake up?"

"Reinitializing requires a password."

I grabbed Ryuuzaki by the both shoulders and hauled him, not stopping to explain, not stopping to put more clothes than _boxers_ on, not stopping to try to figure out why the _hell_ I kept getting flashes of this blurry figure- who was now picking up a pen-, not stopping to open the door properly or to close it, either, not stopping to avoid the children minding their own business in the hall, not stopping until we were in the middle of the most crowded place in the building- the cafeteria.

"_Light_ what the _hell_ is your _problem?_!" Ryuuzaki demanded of me when I finally put him down. I barely noticed the lack of honorific. Exhausted from my weight-bearing sprint, I sat down heavily in one of the chairs and put my head down.

He calmed himself by force and sat next to me. The kids were probably staring (it's not every day you see a mostly-naked man burst into a room at full speed, carrying an older man to whom he is handcuffed) but I couldn't care less.

My mind was finally able to have a thought other than 'save him' repeating over and over again.

"Heh," I managed, trying to catch my breath.

"Light-kun?" he said, more gently this time. He put a hand on my back and rubbed it softly. "Please tell me what the matter is."

_...The blurry figure hesitated..._

"Your computer. It was 'awake' when I woke up. And if you fell asleep at one o'clock... and if it only 'wakes up' if you use a password... then somebody had to have been in our room last night, within fifteen minutes of our waking up, and he'd have to have entered the password to make damn sure we knew he was there. I ran because he might still have been, and I don't want C getting his hands on you to try to finish what B started."

He didn't say anything, so I knew I was right. He leaned close as if to whisper something in my ear, cupping his hands around his lips, and snuck in a fast kiss on the cheek.

I felt warmth radiating from it and I hoped I didn't blush because that would rather defeat the purpose of L hiding the kiss.

"Thank you, Light-kun. But I assure you, he is no longer there. In fact, we may be safer in our room. Safer, at least, from the rumors the children are going to develop from this incident." He smiled to show he didn't actually care.

Evacuating had seemed like the right thing to do. I stood by my decision.

"Come," he said. "We will get you dressed in more than your underwear, and then we will continue to track C. There may be fingerprints or a trail of some kind. Bloodhounds, perhaps, may be of use."

I nodded, having finally recovered from the run, if not completely from that kiss.

Walking back, I was amazed that I had found my way through the halls all on my own. Terror can do that to a person. Adrenalin is truly a powerful thing.

Back in the room, I started to walk over to my suitcase. Needless to say, I was a little surprised when I found myself instead thrown into a wall and pinned there.

_...The blurry figure put the pen down and turned on a TV..._

Ryuuzaki put his lips directly against my ear. "There is a carving knife placed crookedly on the counter next to cuts, of which there are thirteen, B's number. There are thirteen condoms stuck to the ceiling with what appeared to be, not semen, but cement," L summarized.

"Uh... yeah... that sounds right..." My heart was racing. What was he doing? Why was I against a wall? Why was he talking about C when I just wanted in his pants at this particular moment?

The chain clinked loudly between us.

"You believed that the culprit of these things, C, was still in the room with us, and your first instinct was to seize me and drag me with you to safety."

"Uh... yeah..." I gaped.

"Although you are remarkably intelligent, because you are human, your initial instincts are beyond your control."

"I guess."

"The typical human instinct to such fear as you experienced is to run, leaving everything behind, except for, perhaps, your child or someone that you love."

I swallowed. "Yes."

"When you were falling asleep two nights ago, you told me you loved me. You fell asleep immediately after."

"Yeah."

He paused and his face softened. He slipped his fingers from my wrists and into my hair. He kissed just below my ear, down my jaw line, and stopped at the corner of my lips.

"Did you hear me say it back?" he breathed.

I tried to speak normally, but it came out as just a tiny whisper. "I assumed I was dreaming."

He kissed me.

"I have to get dressed, right?" I gasped. I have no idea why I said it. Just seemed like the right thing to say.

"No. Just the opposite."

He kissed me again and electricity coursed through my body. I wrapped my arms around him, unceremoniously deepening the kiss, doing what I had wanted to do since the first time we had done it, tasting him, exploring him. He kissed me back, pressing into me until we were flush. I held his face to mine, not too roughly but not letting go either, breaking the kiss for a second to suck on his lip before going back at it. His hands were fists in my hair, and I realized that _he_ wasn't letting go either.

This was really going to happen. I could almost thank C for causing this, but of course nothing was worth what he had done.

We should be researching and tracking down the kids. I was not, however, going to bring this up just yet. Besides, we could begin working _right_ after our pre-breakfast fuck. That was fine by me.

His hands found their way to his sides and then between us, his fingers brushing a sensitive area, making me gasp. I felt him smile into the kiss, and then felt myself being pulled over to the bed.

With the condoms right over it.

Oh well. If they were up there with cement like Ryuuzaki said (L is always right!) then they probably wouldn't fall off.

Not that I gave a flying fuck at this moment in time.

He pushed me over carefully and I landed on my back. Catlike, he stalked over to me as I tugged at his shirt, wanting it off. If I was already mostly naked, then he'd have to be, too. It just wasn't fair. And he calls himself the defender of Justice. Scoff.

Cooperating for once in his life, he tore it off. I made sure to kiss him breathless as I fiddled with his zipper, sliding his jeans down until he could kick them away. He helped me out of my boxers.

"We were never going to let this happen again," he panted as he kissed down my torso. "There is still time... if we change our minds..."

"Don't even-" I gasped as his tongue met _exactly _where I wanted it, "-_think_ about it."

He left the throbbing need he had created to pop back up and kiss my lips. "I wasn't. It was more of a disclaimer."

"Disclaimer: Cake-luverL..." What started out as an intelligent and delightfully sarcastic statement was cut off by his fingers asserting themselves.

"I don't have anything," he told me.

"I don't care."

"But I don't want to-"

"Just spit or something. Seriously, I've done it completely dry before, I'll be fine," I said between kisses, between gropes. My hands were on the small of his back and I could feel the raised line that was his scar where I had touched it before- where it crossed his spine.

"Hurry up," I begged.

He nodded, past words now, quickly finished preparing me, and proceeded.

My brain exploded with endorphins and fireworks exploded in my head as our bodies moved together. I threw my head back, gritting my teeth, trying not to cry out and failing miserably as I expressed exactly what was on my mind which, by the way, was nonsense.

When it was over, he lay down next to me, kissing me, the sex gone from his mannerism now, replaced by tenderness. I squirmed into his arms and he held me tight.

I sighed contentedly. "Well, we managed to resist each other for three whole nights," I said cheerfully. "And there were even a few showers in there and other assorted awkward moments including a kinky gay bar."

He chuckled low in his throat, nuzzling into my hair. "Yes, Light-kun."

We lay there for a while until we knew we had to get to work. We showered quickly (didn't even kiss- it was a business shower) and got dressed, and for the first time since the day before I faced the wall by the dresser.

I froze. Again. Seemed like I was doing that a lot today.

Although not known for being a religious person, I actually prayed in that moment that what I saw had been there since the cuts and the condoms.

_I C you._

* * *

**"I love how you kiss, I love all your sounds,**

**And baby the way you make my world go 'round.  
**

**And I just wanted to say I'm sorry."**

**-Sorry, Buckcherry**


	19. C for Two and Two for C

**Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note or Another Note. I do own C.**

**A/N: Apparently there really is a Canterbury Hospital in like Sydney, but unlike with CC Bloom's I just picked a C name and went with it.**

**Edited by Rekhyt!**

* * *

"I see you?" I read aloud.

L hadn't seen the graffiti yet; he stared at me. "I see you too..."

"No. I. C. You."

"ICU? Intensive Care Unit?"

"Ryuuzaki, _look_!"

He looked where I was pointing and his eyes went wide.

"I C you," he mumbled.

"Yeah."

"That is... rather upsetting."

"The thing I want to know is, was it there the whole time or did he write it while we were... occupied?"

"I do not know," he said uncomfortably.

"Can we pretend that it was definitely already there?"

"Absolutely."

"Good. So, I'd say we've been contacted. Which means we should finish up our list now, right?"

"No."

"No?"

"No," he repeated.

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. "_Why_," I clarified.

"Because he has already told us where he is. He is at Canterbury Hospital."

"Where are you getting this...?"

"It is abandoned, it is approximately thirteen miles away, and it beings with C." L turned to look at me. "He will meet us in the ICU." He smiled a little. "Thank you, Light-kun. If you had not read that out loud, it would have taken me much longer to decipher the double meaning."

I doubted that, but I accepted the thanks with a smile of my own. "So what do we do? Call the police? Does Wammy's have hitmen?"

"We call no one, tell no one where we are going, and go to the Intensive Care Unit of Canterbury Hospital. Incidentally, Wammy's House does in fact have two assassins in employ."

I had been joking about the hitmen, but now that he'd said it, it suddenly seemed appropriate. "Why aren't we going to tell anyone?"

"Because C will kill Mello and Near if we do. Bargaining chips or no, he knows that killing them will hurt me just as badly as would whatever it is he intends to do. Since that is his end goal, he would not hesitate. The odds of all four of us making it back alive are very slim."

I didn't say it out loud, but to myself I swore that if C thought he was going to lay a finger on Ryuuzaki, he was dead wrong.

We hired yet another cab a block away from Wammy's and rode it until we were a block away from the hospital.

When we got out, I was sure we were in the wrong place. It wasn't just the hospital that was abandoned, it was _everything_.

Living in Tokyo, I'd never seen an area with so many decrepit buildings. There wasn't a single active business here, and even in the noontime light it looked gloomy. It was almost apocalyptic, with parts of buildings smashed, with beams lying strewn across the ground. There was no wild plant growth, no animals that had taken over, no crushed cars or human bodies. There were, however, some syringes and abundant graffiti. This was not the safest place to be between the gangs that were apparently making their lairs here, the distinct possibility of tetanus, and the serial killer that thirsted for the blood of the one I was handcuffed to. And loved.

But L was still walking, noticing but not caring about the desolate wasteland we strode into, stepping over fallen power lines that were only _probably_ disabled by now, avoiding puddles of liquid I couldn't identify and some that I could and wished I hadn't. From his easily-neutral expression, I could ascertain that he had been in much, much worse places. Despite this, there was no way I would let him go here alone. Even if I hadn't been handcuffed to him, I would have been right there. If I knew where we were going I'd have walked _first_.

"Which one is it?" I asked.

"The address is '100.' You will know it when you see it- it is the only building still largely intact."

100. Which was, in Roman Numerals, 'C,' although neither of us said this out loud.

If I was Kira, this place would have made me repent and become Christian. If this was what Hell looked like, I didn't want to go. Maybe I was more sheltered than I thought.

When I looked up, we were in front of a large building that, like L said, was still mostly standing. A huge (fallen) sign declared it Canterbury Hospital. Big blue plates of the shattered plastic littered the doorway.

There was a very clearly-paved path straight through it.

We followed it.

The hallway's signs and markers were still up, although they looked refurbished. We followed those too, until we reached a big pair of swinging double doors. L paused in front of them. He addressed me without looking my way. "Light-kun, if I make any deals... unless I specifically signal you, please do not hinder them."

For some reason he sounded like he was selling his soul. I shuddered and nodded. "Okay," I whispered. I took his shoulders and kissed him gently on the lips. "Just... you know," I said at the same volume.

_...The blurry figure wrote in the book for a few seconds_...

He nodded without a word, and pushed on the door.

* * *

A man stood patiently in the center of a cleared-out room, his hands folded behind his back. I could not tell his age, but he was probably older than me but younger than Ryuuzaki, for the math to work out. He was of mostly average height, he was blond, and his average brown eyes gleamed in the darkness of the windowless room. He was too skinny, as L had predicted he would be, and he had terrible bags under his eyes. He wore a long-sleeved black T-shirt, which I had no doubt had been B's.

The doors swung shut behind us. The only light was from the small windows in them.

"Hello, L," he said pleasantly. Even his voice was average, although somehow it made me shudder. Despite how average he was, something about him, as I had been expecting ever since I was told, was 'off.' There was madness there, delusion that probably permeated his entire life, and beneath that was the saddest, most shattered kind of desperation that human beings were capable of.

This was a man who wanted to shoot L for B, and then to shoot himself and join the one he loved in Hell- because being with him in Hell would be better than being alone on Earth for any longer or alone _forever_ in Heaven.

I wondered if anyone else saw it, but I had a feeling only I did. I sensed deep down what would cause that: losing the one you love, and too much murder. That 'off' was the face of a man with a broken soul.

I glanced at Ryuuzaki, who was staring at the man, C, with the blankest expression I had ever seen. Even _I_ couldn't read that one.

"L," the man scolded when the object of his attention didn't respond. "Weren't you the one who taught us manners at that place in which you tried to raise us?"

L still said nothing.

C shook his head condescendingly. "Such hypocrisy. Very well, I suppose you wish to collect the two children you are subjecting to a life of madness and dysfunction."

L didn't reply.

"You are familiar with hostage situations. I've read most of the books you've read, so I know you are. As such, you know that I will not simply hand them over, as convenient as that would undoubtedly be for you."

Nothing.

"No. In this situation, I believe that to follow protocol I must first ridicule you. Second, I must verbally reduce you to nothing. Third, I must give my very best to make you cry. Finally, fourth, I must make you a deal. In this instance, the deal will be concerned with offering you a choice in relation to saving your poor, helpless children."

"How did you get past the security at Wammy's?" L cut in. Oh, he was trying to delay the torture part. That was a smart move.

"We lived there. We snuck out almost nightly. After a time, we became familiar with the systems which, by the way, are not nearly as difficult as you seem to believe they are. Now, do not change the subject."

'We.' He still used 'we,' and it didn't take more than my basic knowledge of his personality to know who the other person in the 'we' was. C hadn't looked my way once. There was no one but C and L in that room. And B. Always B.

"Of course, I am acting in his stead, doing what he dearly would have loved to do were he still alive. Please do me the courtesy of suspending your disbelief and allowing yourself to believe, in some sense, that I am him. On that note," he cleared his throat, "I shall begin with a definition of terms."

He smiled a totally kind smile and for a moment I doubted he was even crazy. "L is a world-renowned detective. He is brilliant, flawless. He sits in front of computers all day, changing the world by the hour with every stroke of his fingers upon the keys. With between three and four phone calls, he is able to mobilize every military in the world. He never fails, even when pitted against an intellect that is _so very much _more deservingthan his own. L is never wrong. He is never unjust. He never makes a mistake. He will, in time, defeat Kira himself."

C nodded as if in agreement with everything he had just said.

"Do not think, old friend," he continued, "that I compliment you. As stated previously, I am simply presenting you with a definition of terms. I compliment and respect L, as we did growing up, but I would take this opportunity to clarify- you simply are not him." He chuckled, and _there_, peeping to the surface, was that old-fashioned madness he hid so well.

"L does not need food, does not need drink, does not need human contact, does not _need_ to be successful. He has no self-esteem, no ego, id, or superego, no needs, no wants, no ambition. No dreams. No goals. He is blind Justice. You, mentor, are a man. As even I do not know your real name, please allow me to call you by the alias you stole from B. _Ryuuzaki_ needs food. Ryuuzaki needs drink. Ryuuzaki needs human contact. Ryuuzaki needs success. Ryuuzaki has a fluctuating self-esteem as all people do, an ego, an id, a superego, needs, wants, ambitions, dreams, goals. Ryuuzaki is not blind, and he is certainly not Justice. He is swayed by his emotions- emotions that L does not have to begin with. Ryuuzaki is not L."

L shifted and tried to pretend he hadn't.

I think C noticed, because he smiled again. The skin around his eyes crinkled, for all the world like a happy old man. "This brings B to his first point. Ryuuzaki is merely an imitation of L. You strive so hard to be him, even going so far as handcuffing a suspect to yourself- something L would do without blinking."

So he _did_ know I was there.

"But I'm sure you've talked to him idly, for purposes unrelated to discovering whether or not he is Kira. How many long evenings have you spend in idle conversation? If it has happened even once, it is one more than L would have allowed."

Uh... yeah. About that...

"You deprive yourself of sleep because L does not sleep, but at some point you must. I have seen it myself- seen you fall asleep sitting up after four days' vigil. Your endurance is remarkable, but it does not make you L. You ingest the most superficial of foods, because you think filling your body with sugar is closer to eating nothing, like L, than is eating real food."

L barely blinked, staring straight ahead, right into C's eyes. They never looked away from each other.

"L does not bleed. The long, thin scar over your shoulder and down your back screams to anyone who will listen that _you_ _do_. L is immortal, he will not age, and I remember when you, Ryuuzaki, were barely more than a child. Look at yourself now." He pushed aside a little pebble with his foot. It skittered across the floor. "You cultivate those bags under your eyes, don't you? You avoid the sun to stay as pale as you are, because you believe that L, were he flesh and blood, would be white as a ghost. You let your hair run wild, cutting it only when it inhibits your functioning, because you think that is what L would do. Try as you might, though, there are certain aspects of your physical functioning that you cannot discontinue."

He waited as if he expected L... Ryuuzaki... to say something.

When he didn't, C continued. "You breathe. Your heart beats, although I am sure Kira there at your side does everything he can to stop it. Your blood cycles through your body. You sweat. You cry. You feel. You vomit. You urinate. You are human. You are _not_. L."

I was standing close to L so I subtly took his hand, interlocking our fingers. I squeezed, but his hand was limp in mine.

_...The blurry figure was staring intensely at a clock_...

"Where are they?" I whispered for him, stepping forward by only an inch.

Ryuuzaki's hand wasn't limp after that. Suddenly he was clutching my fingers so hard the bones were creaking, silently begging me not to move forward anymore, not to draw attention to myself...

C stared at our hands and then looked up at L, an ugly sneer on his face. "Love," he hissed. "What gives _you_ the right?"

I tried to let go but L held on tight, not allowing me.

"What gives _you_ the right to love? What gives _you_ the right, when you take it from everyone else!"

Briefly, his attention flickered to me. "Believe it or not, Kira, I actually do not hold you responsible for B's death," he said reasonably, suddenly calm. "You kill criminals in jail for what you believe in. We respect that. Also, you are not an imitation. You pretend to be nothing other than what you are."

His eyes were on L again a moment later, and he was right back to furious. "But _you_. B blames _you_ for his death. Blames _you_ for taking him away from me and for taking me away from _him_! I could tell you the hours, Ryuuzaki, the _minutes_ I have been away from him since he was imprisoned, and the _seconds_ that I have been alive since his death in that same prison. Do you know what it is to feel every moment, every _instant_ as if it were a lifetime? I am older now than you could ever imagine, while he does not age in Hell. For putting that distance between us, we will _never_ forgive you."

"Where are they," I repeated calmly, reasonably.

Ryuuzaki just about crushed my hand.

"There." C gestured to a door in the corner. "But don't go yet. I have yet to complete step four."

"Tell me your conditions," L said. His voice betrayed nothing of what he was feeling.

C was deadly serious, back to his perfect calm. "I have your first and second ranked children. I know that your second is the beloved of your third, and if your third's name is "Matt," a name which number two has been yelling _constantly_, then his feelings are more than requited. If you accept my deal, you may retrieve them."

"Unharmed?"

"I will do them no more harm than I already have. You have B's word."

"Tell me," L repeated.

C took something out of his pocket and ate it. "An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, a life for a life. Give me your life, and you will save a life in return."

I saw that look in L's eyes.

_No_...

* * *

**"I am the one hiding under your bed, teeth ground sharp and eyes glowing red.**

**I am the one hiding under your stairs, fingers like snakes and spiders in my hair.**

**Round that corner, man hiding in the trash can, s****omething's waiting now to pounce, and how you'll scream!**

**I am the "who" when you call, "Who's there?"**

**I am the wind blowing through your hair.**

**I am the shadow on the moon at night, f****illing your dreams to the brim with fright."**

**-This is Halloween, Marilyn Manson**


	20. Choices

**Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note. I do own C.**

**A/N: This chapter earned me some threats the first time around... but I promise that everything happens because it needs to.**

* * *

"Yes," L said without a moment's hesitation.

No! No no no no no!

"I don't think you understand," C said, and the smile creeping back onto his face gave me a definite sense of doom. "I said _a_ life for _a_ life. I accept your trade for yours, and once I kill you, you can have... oh... Near. But the _other_ child's life... well, it will require another deal."

He pointed at L. "Your life for Near's. And _his_ life," he pointed at _me,_ "for Mello's."

L's eyes went wider than I had ever seen them and he took a fumbling step back. He almost lost his balance, but I put out a hand to steady him.

_...The blurry figured jerked its head back to the TV, startled..._

"No," he said. He shook his head, slowly at first but picking up speed as he went. "No."

C shrugged. "Very well. Then I shall just kill you and keep your children as long as I please." He smiled politely and I noticed his hand going to his belt.

Everything that happened, then, happened in slow motion. Everything, that is, except for me. Adrenalin allowed me to think faster, slow everything else down, make my decision with perfect clarity of mind and conscience, and act.

Did I want to do this?

Yes.

Was it the right thing to do?

Yes.

Was I going to?

Yes.

Would I have the courage?

Absolutely.

That decided, all of my essence being in agreement, I ran straight into C and overbalanced him. L came flying along after me because of the handcuffs, which I hadn't planned ahead for, but luckily he was too surprised to react and fell face-first out of the immediate danger zone. C's movements were less than half speed to me; I had plenty of time to get on top of him, reach down, grab his gun, turn it around, remove the safety, and blow his head off. Point blank.

And, as C's brains actually splattered onto the floor and out around him like a halo, as L and someone else screamed, as C went to Heaven because the only fitting punishment was to be separated from B for all eternity, as I felt wet warmth meet my hands, my chest, and my face, as L's arms came around me from behind, clutching me, and as a new, salty warmth trickled from my own eyes, I suddenly knew.

The blurry figure was Kira. The blurry figure that I had been seeing in my head every time Ryuuzaki and I touched, since we had slept together the first time, it was Kira, and if I could see his face clearly I would know who Kira was, and I could solve the case. And L and I could defeat him, and then we could... we could... well, we could do _anything we wanted_ and he could release me and I could help him with the next case and...

"L," I said frantically. "I never told you, but I've been seeing things... not like hallucinations or anything, like... visions, like flashes, and I didn't know what it was, but now I do, it's Kira, I've been seeing things about Kira, like I saw him walking, saw him in his room... at least I think it's a 'him' but I don't know how he kills people or anything but if I keep having them I might get to see his face and we could find him and-"

I said it all in one breath. Ryuuzaki turned me around and made me face him, cutting me off. "Light-kun, you are in shock."

"No, I'm not," I protested, even though it was probably true. "This has been happening since that first night and every time I touch you or you touch me... and I think it's because Kira hates you so much and it's just like... transferring... and I don't know why it started when we-"

"Light-kun, Matt is here," he interrupted me. "I can only assume he saw the message and figured it out as well. We will discuss this later. Right now, we need to find Mello and Near."

"Hi," Matt said in a tiny voice from the doorway.

"Yeah, okay," I agreed, forcing myself to my feet, trying not to look at the man I had... murdered... as he lay cooling in a puddle blood.

Why do I wear white? I glanced down at myself and regretted it. Blood. Cranial fluid.

"One second," I said, and turned and retched. I managed to vomit right on C, which I guess was appropriate. I felt better after that, at least physically, and forced out, "He said they were in there." I gestured limply to the door.

"I remember," L said, helping me up.

When our fingers met, I waited for the flash I expected.

Nothing.

But we had bigger things to worry about at the moment, and as the three of us scrambled to the side room of the abandoned ICU, the short run felt like it lasted hours. What if they were hurt? What if they were bleeding to death? What if C had done... other things... to them? But no, C was too faithful to B to consider anything of _that_ nature, right? But what if C had decided there was a nice symmetry to the idea of cutting them as B had cut L?

Matt, not surprisingly, for he had the strongest motivation, reached the door first, ripping it open without pausing and running straight into the room.

I heard a clatter as he bumped into some debris that skittered away, a thump as he fell to his knees, and a sob.

L and I, at the same time, stopped running.

Because it didn't matter anymore, and it was only right to give Matt some time alone with the body of the one he loved. From inside we heard little calls of _"Mello. Mello. Mello, wake up you damn queen. Mello wake up. Mello you can't be..."_

Ryuuzaki and I leaned against the wall in each other's arms. He was shivering, so I held him tighter.

I noticed I was still holding C's gun, so I emptied it and tossed it to the corner furthest from Matt. I didn't want him to get hold of it and use it. Hopefully there weren't any weapons in _that_ room that Matt could turn against himself...

I shook my head, holding L a little tighter.

He wasn't crying. He was only frowning, staring at the door. His frown deepened with another thought.

"What is it?" I asked him at a whisper.

I expected him to cry, now that it was finally all over. He needed to cry, or yell, or hit, or _something_, but Ryuuzaki merely frowned.

"Light-kun, something is wrong."

"You're probably in shock too. It's okay if you don't want to cry but-" I offered helplessly.

"It's not that," he said, shaking his head slowly. "It is that... I do not regret my decision."

"Well," I said uncomfortably, "It was the right one. They were already dead. At least this way _we_, you know, survived. You know?" So articulate.

"But I did not know they were dead. I-"

_...let my emotions affect my decision, did the least logical thing because of how I _felt_..._

_...Acted on impulse..._

_...proved C right..._

"It doesn't work like that," I told his hair. "Just because you expected them to die doesn't make it murder, if they don't die..."

I trailed off because it was futile and we both knew I was making excuses for him.

"Light-kun, if you do something with the belief and expectation that it will kill someone, regardless of whether or not they actually die, you are a murderer."

"You didn't kill Mello and Near," I said firmly.

"No. But I sacrificed them." He looked at me, straight in the eyes. "I can contend with poor decisions or mistakes, once I have catalogued them and studied their inappropriateness, but... as I said... this one... I do not regret."

He took my face in his long fingers, forcing me to look back at him as if I could _possibly_ have looked away from his endless eyes. "Do you see? _That,_" he nodded towards the door, from behind which sobs were emanating, "is what I would be if you died, Light Yagami. I chose you over Matt, Mello, and Near as a matter of instinct. We established at Wammy's that one cannot control one's instincts. I chose you over the more logical choice of two lives and one mind, and even now when I am again calm, I do not regret it."

He dropped his hands and his gaze. "That is the way in which I love you."

There was nothing I could say to that, so I simply grabbed him up and tried to squeeze him into me. He buried his face in my shoulder and held me back. "Do you want to go see them?" I asked.

I felt him nod.

C... had not killed them kindly. The room was painted red with blood, splatters here, pools there. I could trace Matt's footprints directly to where he was kneeling, and then no footprints leading away or to anywhere else. He hadn't moved an inch.

I assumed that the one he was weeping for was Mello and walked closer, squeezing Ryuuzaki's hand as the broken body came into view. He was actually very much like I'd imagined him, and I could see why Matt had initially shouted at him to wake up. He looked like he was asleep, if you could ignore the hundreds and hundreds of short, shallow cuts over every inch of him.

Matt was covered in blood by now. Clearly he'd been shaking the body, clutching at it, collapsing on top of it to sob. Now, his tears had quieted. He sat on his ankles and knees, holding Mello's lifeless hand, stroking his hair. He looked like the mildly worried family member of a most-likely-fine hospital patient. The image was twisted and made gruesome by the blood. It was everywhere; Matt was drowning in it.

Close to Mello's body was a small white one- white hair, white clothes, white skin. This had to be Near. He was red only in the areas on which he lay, where blood from the floor soaked into his white... they looked like pajamas. He was not red, like Mello was now, but black and blue.

He had been beaten within an inch of death, but that had not been the cause of it- dark blue fingerprints blooming on his neck told me that C had finished him off by strangulation. _Choked_ the child to death.

"B was a very cruel child," L whispered.

Because, while it was C who had done this, it had been B the whole time.

"He's dead," Matt informed us unnecessarily. "Mello is dead. Shall we go home?"

He stood up like a robot but forgot to let go of Mello's hand, and the body came with him. He blinked at it, and then continued walking, dragging Mello behind him like... I shuddered at the comparison... a little red wagon.

He was even younger than _me_ and he had already lost his mind and the rest of his life.

L stopped Matt and gently dislodged his fingers, supporting Mello's body and letting it down smoothly so that it didn't hit the floor. When it was settled, he repositioned it and scooped it up. "We will take him home," he told Matt.

"Alright," Matt said neutrally. "If you want to."

"Light-kun, would you please get Near?"

Instead of responding, I just went and did it. The child was so frail and light that it felt like I was holding air. Or cotton, I supposed.

_I'm sorry_ I thought to him ridiculously when I saw that the blood on me was now staining him. Then I thought, _I would have liked to have known you_.

I held him as one holds a toddler: on one side, holding under his legs and around his back. L held Mello bridal-style.

Together, we exited the Intensive Care Unit and stepped back out into the desiccated war zone that surrounded it, the block that had looked like Hell before but that now, in comparison, didn't look so bad at all.

* * *

**"Time is gonna take my mind and carry it far away where I can fly.**

**The depth of life will dim my temptation to live for you.**

**If I were to be alone, silence would rock my tears 'cause it's all about love**

**And I know better how life is a waving feather.**

**So I put my arms around you, around you, and I know that I'll be leaving soon.**

**My eyes are on you, they're on you, and you see that I can't stop shaking.**

**So I put my arms around you, around you and I hope that I will do no wrong."**

**-Dancing, Elisa**


	21. Wash the Blood Away

**Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note or Another Note. I do own C, Dane, and Igloo.**

**A/N: Hello! So, I just moved back into school. In a few days, I will have no time to write, pretty much ever. I'm gonna get as much done as I can before that.**

**Edited by Rekhyt.**

* * *

When we walked back into Wammy's House, the cheerful light streaming in through the stained glass windows contradicted the mood almost cruelly. Children milling about the main entrance stopped and stared in horror as we walked through the small crowd, parting like the Red Sea, an uncomfortable association to make as we walked over the mosaic of the Garden of Eden carrying dead, bloody children. I stepped over the 'tentatio-onis ' I don't know why, but it seemed appropriate. I also stepped over Eve.

These were kids who had seen death and knew far too much about it. More than I did, certainly, and in some cases I was more than a decade their senior. Well, maybe they didn't know more, now that I had killed someone. Maybe now _I_ knew more.

Then again, some of these children had probably killed people. Just like me.

I followed Ryuuzaki dumbly to Roger, in his office, who stared at us wide-eyed when he saw the children in our arms. "Oh..." he said faintly. "Oh..."

It was a small, pathetic sound, and it made me want to hug him despite how I disliked him. He came over to me and held his arms out for Near, and I passed the little boy over. Roger cradled him like an infant. "Oh..." he kept repeating. Tears began to leak down his wrinkled cheeks. "Oh... oh..."

L and I exchanged helpless looks as Roger cried. Finally, when his tears had slowed enough for him to be coherent, he said, "Leave... leave them here... I will take care of it."

L obediently lowered Mello to lie across a couch and Matt went to sit by his side. He took the sliced hand and held it on his lap. The couch would be ruined, but I was certain that no one cared.

"We will go, Light-kun," Ryuuzaki told me. I noticed that he was at the end of the chain's length and had paused so as not to yank me, and jumped to do what he said. We walked down the hallways together in silence.

I couldn't take my eyes off of L. His whole front was red, contrasting sharply with his white shirt and white skin. I was red, too. Maybe people would think it was because of the bodies, but L knew the truth. He had seen me kill C.

L removed our handcuffs the moment we were in his room and ripped off all his clothes, throwing them as far away from himself as he could and heading directly for the shower. The blood had soaked through his shirt and onto his skin. It looked like _his_.

I automatically stayed right behind him, removing my own crimson-stained clothing. He cranked the water on as hot as it could go and stepped straight in without waiting for it to warm up. Being of apparently high quality, it heated up quickly, and soon it was steaming. It successfully washed the blood from him, but it was also turning his skin pink, the beginnings of a burn. I reached in, scalding my arm, and turned it all the way to cold until it cooled down. When it was reasonable, I set it to a safe, middling temperature and stepped in beside him.

He stood under the showerhead, staring out at nothing through his hair, which was now plastered to him. He wasn't moving, simply letting the stream pound on his back and head, standing, slumped as ever. I imagined Sayu shouting "ZOMBIE!" and laughing like crazy. She had a thing for zombies, which I would never understand.

L said he loved me, right? Enough to sacrifice Mello and Near (which he didn't, not _really_...)? So I could do this.

I took him in my arms, and when he leaned into me with all his weight I didn't let him fall. The water that now fell on both of us washed me clean, too, although larger pieces of various parts of C were catching on the shower's drain. I shifted him around to turn off the water, and then I scooped him up and carried him out of the bathroom, putting him down on his bed. I did my best not to think about how L had done this for Matt not too long ago. He immediately curled up. I'd never realized it before, but when he sat in his 'deductive reasoning' crouch, he was pretty much in the fetal position.

He was, of course, still soaked, so I hurried back to the bathroom and retrieved some towels. When I returned to him, I sat down next to him on the bed and started drying him off.

I dried everywhere I could get at without moving him, and then I had to pry him out of his dead-bug position to access the rest. It wasn't hard; he didn't resist anything I did to him. I toweled his hair until it wasn't soaked anymore, and finally the only thing that was really wet was the bed.

I had mostly air-dried by that point, so I lay down next to him. I pulled the covers up around us, but there was nothing I could really say. _Hey, I'm sorry your kids are dead._ See? That would just be awkward.

So I reached out, touched his cheek with the tips of my fingers, and kissed him. He didn't respond, but I got vibes of approval as opposed to _leave me alone now, please_ vibes. For such a supposedly solitary creature, I had yet to find a time he didn't want other people. Specifically me. Maybe he wasn't solitary by choice; he could love, and I'd seen him laugh and cry. He was human... and that was the problem, wasn't it.

"Ryuuzaki, how did you get into Wammy's?" _Why are you alone?_

"The same way every child gets into Wammy's. My parents died, and I am remarkably intelligent."

He was twenty-five. Once you're an adult, no one thinks of you as an orphan anymore. I wondered if that was something that ever really went away, though. I mean, you would grow up with a particular mentality, right? A combination of independence and codependence, the ability to take care of yourself but needing other people in order to be alright. Maybe that was what Ryuuzaki dealt with.

He saw me thinking and touched my forehead with one finger. That was strange, but then again, so was he.

"I love watching you think," he told me matter-of-factly.

"I'll make sure to think more often, then," I replied.

He acknowledged the humor with a nod but couldn't laugh. Not that I really expected him to in this situation. Actually, I probably would have worried more if he _had_ laughed.

I held out my arms to him. He stared at me for a moment, and then scooted over, burying his face in my chest. I wrapped my arms around him and held him close.

"Light-kun, my children are dead."

I squeezed him gently. "I know."

"They were killed by my other child, who was killed by my lover."

Lover. My heart pounded, which he probably knew because his ear was right there. Indeed, he smiled slightly and looked up at me with those beautiful dark eyes.

"I had to kill him," I said quietly. "He was going to kill_ you_."

"You were justified."

"Even if I wasn't, I'd do it again."

He didn't reply to that.

We lay in silence for a long time, until I said, "Are you sleeping tonight?"

He smiled sadly. "I think not."

I immediately resented the fact that I _had_ to sleep to be able to function properly, that I couldn't stay up all night twice in one week, that I would eventually doze off and leave him alone.

When neither of us said anything more, I eventually did.

* * *

That night, I dreamed of Ryuuzaki.

Normally, dreaming about the one you l...ove... is good because you can do all sorts of fun things in dreams that you can't do in real life. And sometimes, it's just nice to think about them while you're asleep so that you don't have to miss them.

Not this one. I'd have _paid_ to not have this dream. It wasn't even really all that creative, compared to some of the nightmares I'd had in my life. The one a few days ago with the falling bodies was a good example. But this...

It was simple. Ryuuzaki was just dying in my arms, after all, and there's nothing complicated about that. I was kneeling on the hard tile of the investigation room and he was staring up at me, and his eyes slowly, slowly closed. And he was just... gone. Dead. And I was screaming.

I sat straight up in bed with a shout and looked at Ryuuzaki, sleeping peacefully next to me.

Strange; he had said he wasn't going to sleep.

And... the sheets were red.

I ripped them off him, my hands shaking so hard I almost couldn't do it.

There was a 'C' carved in his stomach, and he was sleeping peacefully because he was dead, and Ryuuzaki was dead, and L was dead, and the one I loved was dead, and... and...

I woke up for real this time with a jolt that made my whole body jerk, tears flowing freely down my cheeks. I seized Ryuuzaki, who was minding his own business, roughly by the shoulders and forced him to face me. I grabbed his face and held it hard, feeling his now-elevated pulse through his temples where I clutched him, touching all over; his hair, his eyes, his lips, his cheeks, his ears, his nose, that he was still there and that they were still working and that the one I loved was still alive.

His calm features never twitched as I fumbled about his face, finally wrapping both arms around him, one on his head and one over his shoulders, and forcing him into me. He remained passive until he knew that I had calmed down, at which point he moved his legs so that they weren't being snapped in half and readjusted his body into a more comfortable position. Then he went still again to accommodate me.

I tore the bed sheets off him and checked his chest. No 'C.' Of course there was no 'C.' C was dead, I had killed him myself. I'd had bits of his _brain_ on me! And I'm an extremely clever person; I understand that brain bits means dead.

I re-covered him so that he wasn't all out in the open, then buried my face completely in his damp and crazy hair. I noticed that I was still crying.

I was still crying because, even though I now _knew_ he was okay, the nightmare had left me feeling rubbed raw, hollowed out. I felt shaky, weak, and exhausted as if I had sobbed for hours and as if I hadn't eaten. I wondered if he could feel me tremble.

I couldn't lose him. If I ever did- in any way, for any reason- I would go mad.

So I held him, and he let me, and I shook.

* * *

**"Well your faith was strong but you needed proof.  
**

**You saw her bathing on the roof, her beauty and the moonlight overthrew you.  
**

**She tied you to her kitchen chair, she broke your throne, she cut your hair,  
**

**And from your lips she drew the Hallelujah.**

**Well baby, I've been here before.  
**

**I know this room and I've walked this floor. **

**I used to live alone before I knew you.  
**

**I've seen your flag on the marble arch... love is not a victory march, **

**It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah."**

**-Hallelujah, Rufus Wainwright**


	22. Matt's Chapter

**Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note, any of the songs or games mentioned, or Gandalf. I do own C, Dane, and Igloo.**

**A/N: This is kind of a bonus chapter. It was in the original, so not a bonus in **_**that**_** way, just that it's not mandatory to the story. I wanted to do a bit more with Matt before I moved on, and this is what came from it. It does, however, offer some insight into the main plot. :)**

* * *

**Matt POV**

L and Light left the room, but it didn't even occur to me to care where they were going. I was holding Mello's hand, and that was all I knew.

Yes, I understood that he was dead. I'm not delusional, and I'm not stupid. I can tell fantasy apart from reality, which I have to be able to do in order to _reject_ reality- that's the life of a gamer. It's my thing; I ignore the truth and submerge myself in the much simpler world of animation. _That's_ the world I'm supposed to be in, and the world I spent all my time in, or would have if not for Mello.

So yes, I knew he was dead, but that didn't mean I had to accept it.

I held his hand, and, with my thumb, stroked the only cut-free part of him that I could find.

He was pretty much the same, actually, except that he was completely still. Mello was never still. He was always shouting or laughing or thinking or beating someone up, even in his _sleep_, and if I wasn't gaming then I was helping him. My life was games and Mello. Take away Mello, and what was it?

Digital. False. Unimportant. Meaningless.

Why live, as that song says, just to breathe?

I wasn't going to kill myself, though. Mello would never approve of that, and I can't go against his orders even now.

That left two options.

One: Bury myself in games and nicotine.

Two: Go as stark, raving, bat-shit crazy as C did when he lost B.

That was what C wanted, right? That's why he killed Mello? To make L hurt by having to watch me hurt for the one I loved? If he had known about Light, he would have just killed _him_ instead. If only it had been…

No, I couldn't let my mind go down that path. This wasn't L's fault. It wasn't Light Yagami's fault either. No one asked for this. It wasn't even Kira's fault for killing B and causing C to go crazy. If I had a skill other than technology, it was objectivity: even this, I could look at logically. It wasn't their fault. It was C who had done it, and Light had effectively ended that.

Should have been my job.

I should have blown C's fucking head off, and then I would have shot the body a few more times for good measure. He could never be quite dead enough to suit me (although Light puking on him was a good start). The body was still there, right? Maybe I could go back for him. Oh, no, even better: I'd cut it up with the knife C left in L's bathroom. I'd cut it up until it was as bloody as Mello.

The thought was intoxicating, but I couldn't do it. Desecrating bodies, no matter what the motive, was stupid and unnecessary. As much pleasure as it would probably give me, I truly didn't want to go down the same path as C, and tracking down a body just to cut it to pieces sounded a little bit too much like something he would do. I wouldn't even blink if I found out he already _had_. Yeah, I shouldn't do that, but wouldn't it be satisfying? Not nearly as satisfying as killing him would have been, but, again, Light had gotten that pleasure. It made sense, I supposed, because he didn't know I was there and C had been pointing a gun at L. Regardless of the fact that Light loved L, it was still important to protect as much life as possible.

Of course, I didn't know for a _fact_ that Light loved L. I was just surmising it from the way he looked at him, the way he moved around him, and the way he was always, always watching him, even when he was focused on something else. How he touched him and spoke to him so gently. How he hadn't even hesitated when C had pulled out a gun.

I knew L better than I knew Light, so I was a little more certain about how _L_ felt than I was about how Light felt. I think he loved him, too. I suspected it for the same reasons that I suspected Light loved L, but with one added, inarguable fact: around him, L smiled at least twice as much as he normally did.

It wasn't that L was unfriendly. He was very kind, and he would always help you or play with you if you asked. He rarely complained about anything and he even more rarely got frustrated with someone who couldn't keep up with him intellectually. He just… didn't smile a lot.

Around Light, though, he was practically grinning. He had even chuckled. He was… _alive_.

It was like L wasn't all there without Light, and in my opinion, that's love.

Kind of like the way I loved Mello. The way I always would.

The worst part was, I only had so many years worth of memories with him. It was probably enough, but… I was going to age. Mello wasn't. I would be eighty, and I'd still be loving, missing, dreaming of, and crying for Mello, who would still be fifteen. I refused to think of that as pedophilic, but there was still a problem: I was going to change (especially without him around), and he never would. I'd have only my memories of a decade of friendship and pining love and two weeks… just _two weeks_… of knowing that he loved me, too. Of an actual established, if secret, relationship. And in those two weeks, just _one night_ of proving it physically.

Since I'd never love anyone after loving Mello (Gandalf, who could compare?), and since I could never sleep with someone I didn't love, it was all that was going to happen. One memory, one instance, forever. I was going to be a crabby, repressed old man. That was for sure.

That was, of course, assuming I didn't self-destruct before I could _get_ old. Even if suicide wasn't an option, my systems might shut down of their own accord. How long can a person feel like this and keep living?

Hopefully not very long. I hoped so much that it wouldn't last long.

No one else loved me like Mello did, and I really didn't think anyone else could. Sure, I had some friends. Kind of. Sure, Roger had a soft spot for me for some unimaginable reason. Sure, L loved me and I could tell that even Light cared about me, or at least pitied me, but none of that would do. Even someone who loved me romantically, like Mello had, wouldn't be the same or even anywhere approaching enough, because he had been my best friend, too. He was first to me in every single way. No one could replace that. We'd _grown up_ together.

B and C were at Wammy's while I was, but they left before I was old enough to truly remember either of them. I do, however, remember two guys who were always together and I have a vague recollection- I don't know if it's a real memory or one of those memories you create when you've been told something a million times- of the first, and I presume last, fight they ever had.

Even then, they hadn't separated. They were never out of sight of each other, and this was no exception. It lasted about thirty minutes, during which they screamed at each other, storming around the House but still following each other around. When one got further away than they were comfortable with, the other would give a sort of pained gasp and rush over to him, and they'd continue fighting. There was loudness, angry gestures, and lots of tears on both their parts, and it had ended with B grabbing C and crushing him into him, and then they were whispering, and I heard I love you's and I'm sorry's and never again's. And it never _did_ happen again.

Interesting where my mind will take me when I'm busy Not Accepting Facts.

Roger was saying something, but I wasn't paying attention. Nothing new, eh, Mello? Roger had cried for Near, and I'm sure there were tears in there for Mello and for the fact that I was losing Mello, but there was no question he loved Near more. This didn't surprise me: Mello and I _had_ worked hard to make his life a living Hell. Apparently we succeeded. I squeezed Mello's hand and a little pulse of pride swam through me.

Why didn't I care that Near was dead?

Mello hated Near, but I don't think he wanted him actually dead. Maybe he would enjoy brutally killing him in a game (Near always beat him when we played three-player. Of course, I always beat Near shortly thereafter), but I knew that deep down Mello would never have actually put a bullet in Near's head. Probably.

Near, too. Near was dead, too. I didn't know him that well, but he'd always been around. It was just hard for me to look at him when I was always seeing Mello.

Mello, with his fire and his energy and his life.

Well, not that he had any of those things now.

I sighed and looked down at the body of the one I loved, the one I was _supposed_ to spend the rest of my life with. The one I'd always loved. He said he had always loved me, too. Maybe we could have been together sooner... Oh well. The way it worked out, I got a best friend _and_ a lover.

Well, actually, I guess the way it worked out was that I ended up with no one.

It hurt. It hurt _so damn much_ that I wasn't sure it would ever dim, let alone go away. Maybe it would eventually dull down to a constant, throbbing ache as opposed to the searing agony it was now. I doubted it.

And still, _still, _it was worth it. The pain was _worth_ all years I got with him. I'd do it all again, even knowing what I know now. Ten years of Mello, the price for which is seventy-five years of Hell.

In the morning, I'd have to tell L to be careful not to lose Light. I would even tell _Light_ this, whether he was Kira or not.

Because _no_ one deserves this.

Not even Light.

Not even Kira.

Not even C.

* * *

**"For what partnership do righteousness and lawlessness have? Or what fellowship does light have with darkness?"**

**-2 Corinthians 6:14**


	23. Requiem

**Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note, CC Blooms, Facebook, or any of the songs mentioned. I do own C, Dane, and Igloo.**

**A/N: Final warning: this fanfic does not have a happy ending. The epilogue is not unhappy, but... let me just say that Mello and Near dying are not the reason this fic is categorized under 'tragedy.'**

**As it was the first time around, this chapter is dedicated to CeruleanCypher, who gives the most encouraging reviews ever! **

* * *

When I had regained some semblance of control, Ryuuzaki said, "A nightmare, I presume."

I nodded in his hair. "Yeah."

"About my death."

"Yeah."

"I see."

"And I woke up- in the dream- from a dream of you dying, and you had a big 'C' carved into your stomach and you were dead. Except I thought for sure I was awake, because I had woken up in the dream, and... yeah. Sorry."

Couldn't let go, though. Even though I _was_ sorry, there would be none of that 'letting go' nonsense.

"I am unlikely to complain about you dreaming of me, Light-kun," he said innocently.

Was there a double-meaning there? No? Oh. Okay.

He let me hold him for a very long time. Eventually he sighed. "Light-kun, I am hungry. May we now go to breakfast?

"Yeah." I still didn't let go.

"Light-kun, if you let go I will allow you a full half hour in the bathroom."

It was tempting. It was _very _tempting. Just think about what I could do with my hair in that length of time! It could look better than it had in weeks!

But... he had been _dead_ in my dream. Ryuuzaki had been _dead_.

"No deal," I mumbled.

"Good," he said approvingly.

Damn Ryuuzaki. Testing me all the time. And this wasn't even a Kira test, this was a 'Does Light-kun love me more than he loves his hair?' test, the answer to which should have been obvious.

Because if I hadn't been able to incapacitate C, my next plan would have been to take the bullet.

And my hair definitely wouldn't have survived that, so there.

...Definitely not actually straight. Had I actually believed that once upon a time?

"However, Light-kun, we must get up. And we actually must spend some time on our appearances today."

"Are we going back to CC Blooms?" I asked confusedly. I was still on my 'so, _so _gay' train of thought.

"No," L said lightly. "It is the custom of Wammy's to honor their dead the very next day."

Oh.

"Alright," I said. I pulled myself together by pure strength of will. It couldn't be about me anymore, even if the holes on my insides from that dream were barely healing over. _L_ was the one who was going to need _me_, not vise-versa. Because I was his lover! And that's how it worked. It was my job.

So we ended up spending our half hour in the restroom, showering (he used my method- take _that_) and doing _his_ hair. I burned most of the time just getting the tangles out, making him presentable. My hair was always remarkably obedient; as much as I liked to, I didn't _need_ to spend hours on it. It would pretty much air-dry the way it needed to. L, however, needed all the help he could get.

Unfortunately, he didn't look noticeably different even after I had used all our allotted bathroom time trying to stop the madness. Such a waste. He really did have nice hair in theory.

When he got tired of letting me struggle with and swear at the beast that he tried to pass off as hair, he dragged me into the next room, removed the handcuffs, and we dressed.

He didn't know that I saw him, but I did- he hesitated before putting the handcuffs back on.

What did _that_ mean?

Probably that he didn't want to wear kinky handcuffs to a funeral. It was understandable.

I lent him a suit because I had plenty and we were about the same size. He looked... absolutely fantastic... but I wasn't really surprised. I'd always had a thing for men in suits _I MEAN_ I liked wearing suits so it wasn't much of a stretch to imagine that I'd like one on him. For some reason, with his hands in his (my) pockets and hunched over as ever, the way the suit bunched up...

Suffice to say that he looked really, really good.

I, of course, looked outstanding as well, just in the opposite way. Where he was laid-back and almost made the suit look _casual_, I was pristine. Together (and handcuffed), we were a girl's dream come true.

We ate breakfast in the beautiful cafeteria, but it wasn't loud like it had been before. Overhearing some of the kids, I learned that there were no classes that day in honor of the funeral.

I wondered briefly how they were going to bury Near and Mello if the ground was frozen, but I was in a room full of geniuses. _Someone_ would figure something out. I also wondered if Igloo would be attending.

It was to be held immediately after breakfast, so when everyone was done eating, we all migrated outside.

L walked stiffly, but his face was totally under control. I assumed he'd had enough of breaking down, and that he had to keep a brave face in front of all the kids who worshipped the ground he walked on. I would have to make sure that he never felt like he had to hide it from _me._

I followed the crowd until I realized that it was unnecessary.

Our target was obvious. Two big, wooden funeral pyres.

The children clustered around it, clumped up with their particular friends for support and warmth. It was cold. I checked to make sure L hadn't taken off his shoes when I wasn't looking. He hadn't, but I suspected it was only because we'd compromised and I'd agreed to let him not wear socks if he wore the shoes.

Matt was standing with Dane and Linda, but he might as well have been standing alone. I guess, more accurately, Dane and Linda were standing with _him_.

I met his eyes and smiled sadly at him, gesturing for him to join Ryuuzaki and me. He nodded a little and weaved through the crowd, taking his place beside us. He leaned over and whispered something to L, who looked at him for a long moment, then nodded, just once. "I will," he whispered back.

Matt nodded again, looking satisfied (if still like a zombie), and then refocused his attention on the piles of wood.

I heard music. It was in a language I didn't know, but I recognized the melody.

Ave Maria.

"Mello was Catholic," L whispered to me. "Near was an atheist. I imagine Roger has had quite a time trying to decide what music to play."

And then a group of people were bringing out coffins. One was carved beautifully with 'Mihael Keehl,' the other with 'Nate River.' Matt's eyes never left 'Mihael' so I assumed it was Mello.

I guess their names weren't secret anymore. There was no more that anyone could do to them.

As Ave Maria played, the coffins were placed upon the pyres. I caught L blinking hard. I took his hand and interlaced our fingers. Everyone there already thought we were lovers. And we _were_, so they were even right.

I didn't care by that point, anyway.

Someone was now speaking in either English that I didn't know or advanced Latin. At a pause, I heard a match being struck.

The wood or the coffins must have been treated, because the fire caught evenly, calmly, and beautifully. Matt instantly dissolved into tears, and L put a hand on his shoulder knowing perfectly well, I'm sure, that it wouldn't help a bit.

As time passed, people began to drift away. Linda was crying freely, holding Dane's hand (as one holds the hand of one's gay best friend), who was standing there, gritting his teeth. He stared at Mello's coffin intensely for a long time before shaking Linda off, clenching his hands into fists, and walking away, trying not to storm off and only succeeding a little bit.

Linda plopped down in the snow. That looked cold.

I saw Igloo, looking extremely nervous and uncomfortable, standing with a small group of people. He looked appropriately grief-stricken, but he left the first moment he could, straight back for his igloo.

I saw him, teary, watching the fires from there.

A few children, probably the ones who had known Mello and Near more closely than others, stayed for quite a while. Matt, of course, didn't move a muscle.

When the pyres were nothing but embers and the snow around them had melted into puddles, and as the sun began to set, L squeezed my hand and shook himself all over. "Alright. We will go back inside, now, and join the reception."

I nodded and followed him back to, again, the cafeteria, where the buffet area was filled with all the things one would expect one's relatives to bring you- lots of bean salads, casseroles, and catering trays. Wammy's apparently tried to imitate real life (or, at least, exo-House life) for kids who had probably attended no funeral other than that of their parents, if they were old enough to remember it.

I wondered if this funeral reminded L of his parent's funerals, but I didn't ask.

Despite the fact that L was all but literally worshiped, no one came to sit with us. I guess when you're up on a pedestal like he is you end up being pretty unapproachable. The quiet talking and occasional laughter (that strange kind of laughter that you find at funerals) provided a comfortable background for our own murmured conversation.

"Light-kun, have you ever been to a funeral, before this one?"

"Uh, yeah," I answered uncomfortably. "Most of my relatives are dead. My parents had small families, you know, so... but... never a funeral like this. Never a kid. And I never really cared before."

He kept watching me. When that got uncomfortable (between his _eyes _and how awkward that statement was), I continued. "But, you know, I'm kind of... cold... and all. I'm not built to care about people."

"Light-kun believes he is cold?" Ryuuzaki asked me, and his voice was so gentle that my heart began to race.

I had just basically told him I didn't care for him (which wasn't true) and what he picks up on is that I know I'm cold? I mean, I'm sure the other thing didn't escape his notice, but still.

"I _know_ I'm cold," I replied. I smiled at him. "There's only been one exception."

"Who?" he asked innocently.

"You're The Great and Powerful L. Figure it out." I tapped him gently on the forehead.

He smiled back.

We remained at the reception until very late, interrupted occasionally by kids who wanted a hug from L, which he provided without complaint. I wondered briefly what he would do if I did the same thing. Actually, I knew what he'd do. He'd hug me. Maybe I'd use that later.

When he announced that it was time for bed (strange- it was only ten), I followed him without complaint. I was a fan of sleep (seriously- I had even 'become a fan' of it on Facebook) and if he was offering, I was going to jump at the chance.

Once we were prone, however, my mind changed completely.

Because L lying down, curling up halfway, and facing me with those big, dark eyes is not conducive to sleep.

Ah, so he wasn't done talking to me. "More to say?" I asked gently.

"Yes."

"And you didn't want to say it out there?"

"Light-kun's deductive reasoning abilities continue to hold firm."

"Then what do you want to talk about?"

He hesitated. "I... feel... silly talking about it at a time such as this."

I blinked at him for a moment, trying to comprehend the fact that the word 'feel' had just come out of his mouth in relation to a description of his own emotions. I replied moments before it got to be an awkward silence. "People's emotions are all over the place at funerals. You heard those people who kept laughing."

"Yes." He paused again. "Forgive me, it is a selfish thing to be considering now, but I have already restrained it for much longer than I imagined I would be able to. Light-kun, do you remember the things that C said?"

Of course I did. Who forgets the last minutes of the life of the person they'd killed? Between that and my freakish memory, I'd never be able to forget.

"Yeah."

"Did it..." he rolled his eyes and shook his head, an unusual level of facial expression for him. He finished in an annoyed rush. "Light-kun, if what C said about me was true, would it change how you feel about me?"

I could only stare for a minute or two. Finally, I was able to say, "_What_?"

"All of the things that L is, all of the things that Ryuuzaki is not. That I... that _Ryuuzaki_ does many things in order to be like L. Like C said. Not all of them- sleeping for instance- but... many of them."

I almost laughed, but he was so serious that it would have hurt him if I had, so I managed to stop myself. "Ryuuzaki, L, whatever. You're not two different people. You're L just as much as you're Ryuuzaki. L's not an idea, he's _you_."

"Oh," he whispered.

_That_ was a loaded 'oh.'

"Elaborate," I commanded him.

"I have never thought of it from that perspective. I have spent twenty-five years trying to be the ideal I held for L, and in approximately four seconds you have very anticlimactically, as the saying goes, 'taken the weight of the world off my shoulders.'"

"Good."

"So they have not."

"Right." I touched his cheek. "By this point, I'm not sure my feelings _could _change," I said quietly, more to myself.

He didn't reply, but I could see in his beautiful eyes a smile more breathtaking than anything I'd ever seen.

* * *

**"At the end of the world or the last thing I see, **

**You are never coming home, never coming home.**

**Could I? Should I?**

**And all the things that you never ever told me**

**And all the smiles that are ever gonna haunt me."**

**-Ghost of You, My Chemical Romance**


	24. Basements

**Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note.**

**A/N: Not for the squeamish.**

* * *

Unsurprisingly, the flight back to Japan was uncomfortable.

Not between him and me, no, that had never been better, but L was acting as if nothing terrible had happened. If that's what he wanted, that's what he would have- I forced myself to act that way too. So we talked about everything except anything that mattered, including C, Mello, Near, and where exactly we stood at the moment. I mean we weren't... boyfriends... or anything... but it was pretty clear what our feelings for each other were. No, that was too awkward to think about, let alone bring up. Later for that. Or never. Never was good.

I did try to make sure we were always close and/or touching though, and I could tell he appreciated it. We sat at an intimate closeness but spoke entirely platonically. I imagine it was quite confusing for anyone who cared to watch.

"You know, you _do_ look like a panda," I brought up again casually, fighting a smile.

"Light-kun, we discussed this. I do _not_ resemble a panda."

"But you capitulated," I reminded him, using his exact word.

He responded wittily and I actually managed to make him laugh once on the long flight home.

* * *

As soon as we walked in the door, we were greeted by an utterly frantic Watari. This by itself threw me off, since I'd never seen Watari break a sweat before, let alone run up to L like the ceiling was collapsing. I guess that was wrong, though, wasn't it. I _had_ seen him upset before- when he was telling L that Mello and Near had been kidnapped.

He didn't say a word, simply shoving a book into L's hands.

L immediately froze, staring at empty space in the air. "Thank you, Watari," he said calmly, pleasantly. "I can see why you were so eager to show me this."

"Can I see it?" I asked, eyeing the black book L was clutching to his chest.

"No," he said, too quickly. Then, more gently, "I do not think that would be a good idea, Light-kun. I will explain the situation later."

What could I do? I relented.

"Ryuuzaki," Watari said. "In the last eight hours, when you were beyond contact because of the airplane, we identified, moved in upon, and captured the man we suspect of being Kira. Higuchi. He will not talk, but we found the notebook on his person, and as you can see..." He gestured to where L was staring. Watari was evidently not as stupid as Roger was- he cut himself off before revealing things I shouldn't hear. "What you are thinking right now, Ryuuzaki: I agree with you. That may be the only thing you can do." Cryptic as Hell. Well I suppose that's where L got it. Or maybe Watari had gotten it from Ryuuzaki?

L's eyes disentangled themselves from the thoroughly vacant air and locked onto his old friend. "Thank you, Watari." He shifted so that I could not easily see the book, then passed it back to Watari. "Please keep this in a safe place, and continue to examine it. And please do not allow Light-kun to come into physical contact with it."

Watari nodded, significantly more Watari-ish, and took the book, going back in the direction of the main room.

L began walking, and I of course had no choice but to follow him. "Where are we going?"

"To see Higuchi," he said evenly.

Something was wrong with that voice. That tone. It was much too forced, even for him.

As I followed him down a flight of long, cement stairs, I realized I had never been to the basement of this building before. I suppose I _technically_ had, but I had been blindfolded, and then in a cell for what felt like years, so it didn't count.

I got a chill when we passed my cell. Hello old friend.

Got a bigger chill when we passed _Misa's_. As much as I disliked my girlfriend, I knew that L had done some things to her to try to make her talk. Misa wouldn't tell me what. And if _she _wouldn't tell me, it had to be unspeakable.

We stopped in front of a pair of swinging doors, and I tried not to think about how similar it was to the moment right before we went to the ICU and C.

"Light-kun, I am not proud..."

He stared at his bare feet for a while, scratching one foot with the other, his hands shoved deep in his pockets. For a moment, he could not continue.

Finally he looked up at me. "I am not proud of what I am about to do. I wish you did not have to see it, or, ideally, that you did not even have to know that this is something I have done in the past and will do in the future."

"Um..."

"I would ask you not to watch, but I know that will be impossible. At the very least, do not speak."

I nodded, emphasizing my compliance by not answering verbally.

He nodded back, and together we entered the room.

The first thing I saw was fluorescent white light, blindingly bright. It filled up the room as if it were a solid mass; there could be no shadows, nowhere to hide, nowhere to run. The walls were white tile, the floors the same, and when L closed the door behind us, it was a sterile, medical steel.

L moved through the room like a white shadow, his white shirt blending in disturbingly well with the brilliantly white room. Higuchi was tied up in the middle, to a white steel chair, bound with white ties.

L strode up to him without any sign of his previous reluctance, ripping off the man's white blindfold. Higuchi yelped- he must have been asleep, and the intensity of the light probably didn't feel too good before his eyes had time to adjust.

It didn't even feel good _after _one's eyes had time to adjust.

I couldn't take my eyes off of L as he gave Higuchi a moment to acquaint himself with his surroundings, then said monotonously, "I am L. You have been captured under suspicion of being Kira. This is a formality. You will be killed whether or not you talk. If you talk and convince me that you are not lying, I will kill you in a much more pleasant manner."

He looked back at me, and for a moment let the mask over his eyes slip. Pain. Regret. Shame.

"Light-kun, please retrieve that cart for me."

I looked around and found the cart that I hadn't seen before. I could reach it without him moving, so I retrieved it and rolled it over to him. It didn't look like a friendly cart.

The lights flickered slightly. _That_ was going to get annoying.

"This," L said, selecting a syringe from the cart and holding it up for Higuchi to see, "will be the way in which I will kill you, in the event you choose to talk." He reached into a covered part of the tray and extracted a little mouse. It squirmed fiercely in his strong fingers, in vain.

Emotionlessly, he inserted the needle into the mouse's stomach and pushed the plunger about a millimeter with frightening ease and familiarity, barely deploying any of its contents. The mouse instantly stopped moving.

L returned the mouse and the still almost-completely full syringe to the cart, refocusing his attention on the bound man.

"Everything _else-_" he gestured to the rest of the implements on the trolley, "-will be used to kill you slowly, in the event that you do _not_ talk. Choose." He carefully, almost _gently_ removed the gag, placing it on the cart with everything else. "Your decision?"

"You won't kill me," Higuchi said hesitantly.

L didn't speak for a moment. When he did, he sounded exactly the same. It could have been a recording. The silence, though, was what made it very clear that he _would_. Happily.

"Your decision?" he repeated.

I wondered if it was true. And if it wasn't, how much was really an act?

Higuchi shivered. "No... no I'm not going to tell you anything. You don't have anything on me, no proof. You _have_ to let me out of here."

"Very well," Ryuuzaki said indifferently, and then proceeded to...

I screwed my eyes shut until Higuchi stopped screaming.

The white tiles were red with blood as Higuchi writhed and spat out enamel. It wasn't long until he stopped moving. L bent down, righted the chair without any visible sign of effort, and in a moment was again the perfect gentlemen. Not winded, not tired. He showed no trace of what he had just done.

"Higuchi-san, would you like to change your decision?"

"No," he moaned. It was hard to understand him, since he was now missing several teeth and the ones that remained were shattered. "No I don't want to. If you're going to kill me, just do it already."

"It's far from over," the world's three most famous detectives said casually. "But if you insist on being stubborn, I'll proceed. I will only ask one more time, however."

He gestured to me again. "Light-kun, please press the small black button on the wall directly behind you."

I obeyed without a word, and the lights began to flicker.

It was a faint flicker, like the one I had noticed earlier, the kind that fluorescent lights do all the time. Now, however, if was almost constant. Somehow this faint tremble was worse than flashing lights could ever have been. They were going to drive all three of us completely insane, not that I had any sanity left to lose anymore. And, looking at L now, I wondered if _he_ did.

L reached into the cart again and removed a short steel rod. He tapped it in his hand a few times, checking the bounce, the kickback, if you will, and then, without warning, slammed it into the temporal bone of Higuchi's skull.

Instant concussion. The sickening crack and Higuchi's agonized howl confirmed my diagnosis as he crumpled in his seat, trying to hold his head but being prevented by his ties. Suddenly the flickering of the lights went from annoying to very, very cruel. I wanted to throw up.

Higuchi was whimpering now, crying. He wasn't saying actual words, but he didn't need to in order to convey misery. "Please stop," he begged.

"Please _confess_," L countered. "Are you Kira?"

The man didn't answer. L slapped him hard, jostling the already much-abused head.

"Are you Kira?"

"Yes," he whispered. "I'm Kira."

"And how do you do it? How do you kill people?"

Higuchi laughed, almost amused. "I knew it would come to this," he said to himself. "My life _would_ come down to trying to explain the Death Note."

Death Note? I looked into his eyes, and for a moment, our gazes met. He glanced above my head and gave me a small but chilling smile. "She told me about you."

_What_?L glanced back at me sharply, but he must have seen the blank look I was giving Higuchi because he didn't linger on me.

"Who told you? What did she tell you?" he demanded of his prisoner.

But Higuchi wasn't going to say any more than that.

Instead of asking more questions, L continued by taking Higuchi's hand and quite blatantly snapping his pinkie finger. Higuchi screamed, face contorted with terrible pain, blood from his gums occasionally flying out where spittle should have been. Once again, L's white shirt was red.

"What did she tell you?" L repeated coldly. He broke another finger.

Higuchi continued to scream, but he never said another word.

Another finger, another scream, no answer.

Another finger, another scream, no answer.

Another.

Another.

How many fingers did this guy _have_?

Another.

I couldn't take this. This was monstrous, grotesque, disgusting, wrong.

Another.

And it was _L_ doing it. No, how _could_ it be? This wasn't the person I knew. Sure, he was childish and he hated to lose, like me, but people like us... we didn't _do _things like this! This was barbaric. L could talk circles around this man, so why was he doing it this way?

L rustled around in the cart some more and I couldn't look.

It wasn't the blood. When you've killed someone, you can hardly freak out when you see blood.

It was the fact that it was L. The one thing about this situation that I never would have guessed I would be unable to stand. That it was _him_.

I realized I'd rather it were my father doing it, or my mother, _Sayu_, anyone but L. Anyone. Even me: I already had blood on my hands, I did not want to watch him kill Higuchi. (But would he? Would he really do it? Could he murder someone?)

Terrible screams echoed through the Investigation Building for hours that felt like eternities.

I won't pretend I didn't back away. I won't pretend I didn't turn around. I won't pretend I didn't get as far away as the handcuffs allowed me to be. I won't pretend I didn't try to convince myself that it was a nightmare, or that this was actually BB and not L.

I also won't pretend I didn't almost sob with relief when L freed Higuchi, sedated him heavily, and put him in my old cell.

I followed him in a heavy silence back to our room.

"I was never going to kill him," he told me finally, sitting on our bed and drawing his knees up to himself. He didn't notice or didn't care about the streaks of blood he left on the couch.

"Oh." I would have liked to have said 'I know,' but I couldn't. I _hadn_'_t_ known. I had truly believed that Ryuuzaki was going to kill him, after he asked Higuchi the second time and got the same answer.

Why the man- Kira- had refused to explain his power, I would never know.

But he _had _confessed to being Kira.

He was Kira.

And I... I _wasn't_.

* * *

**"The darkness in my veins I never could explain,**

**And I wonder, if you ever see, will you still believe?"**

**-Falls on Me, Fuel**


	25. A House Divided

**Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note.**

**A/N: Rated M for a reason. :)** **By the way, this is going to be cheesy, but ALSO sickeningly sweet, and also rated M. Sweet, sweet M-rated cheese.**

* * *

I sat down next to him on the bed, not saying anything initially. A few long moments passed that way, with us just sitting, with L just staring at the floor.

Finally, I said, just trying to break the oppressive silence, "So why didn't you want me touching that book?"

"'L, do you know? Gods of death love apples.' That is the note Kira indirectly wrote to me," L answered in monotone, wiggling his toes. "I saw something that proved the existence of shinigami, so I knew the cause of it had to be related to Kira. Therefore, that notebook must be related to Kira, and as such, I would prefer that you avoid contact with it at all costs."

"But Higuchi confessed that he was Kira. Is. So I _can't_ be."

For some reason, upon saying it out loud, relief flooded my system even more than before. I wasn't Kira. I mean, I _knew _that... but...

Well, imagine what it's like to finally have proof that something you've been afraid is true for so long, _isn't_. And when that thing you were afraid you were was _Kira_? The one you hate the most, and the only thing the one you love would never accept. I mean, L would be able to accept an extra toe, me losing my dick, me having some kind of breakdown. I believed that. But if I was _Kira_ he'd never accept me... Would he?

To my surprise, L agreed with what I'd said. "This is true," he said expressionlessly. He wouldn't look at me. Why wouldn't he look at me? He fished around in his pocket for a while, removing candy wrappers and lint, finally finding the key. He freed his wrist, and then gently took my hand, placing it on his lap. He slipped the key in, turned it. The cuff was released, and he deliberately removed it from around my wrist, placing it on the bed behind us. He intertwined our fingers, staring at them intensely.

He didn't look up once.

I was free. I was no longer handcuffed to someone who thought I was a serial killer. I could be more than a few feet away from him- an unsettling concept. Stockholm's Syndrome is a bitch.

But freedom. I could go to the bathroom by myself. I could _choose _when I wanted him in the shower with me. I could spend as long as I damn well pleased doing my hair. How had that happened, finally? After so much time? (I had to remind myself that it really wasn't that long, only a few endless days.) There was only one solution. L was still testing me, even now.

"Ryuuzaki, I know where you're going with this. If I'm Kira, then I won't argue and I'll let you remove the handcuffs. But since I'm not, I'm going to tell you: just because Higuchi is Kira doesn't mean I'm not, or haven't ever been."

He began to massage the chafed, scarred skin of my wrist, pressing his thumbs deep into the muscles with a skill I wouldn't have expected. It felt incredible with his typist's fingers.

"Yes," he mumbled.

I took him by the shoulders, pulling my wrist from his grasp. "Would you please stop testing me?" I begged him. "Why can't I convince you, when you're the only one I really _care _about convincing?"

"That's _why_ you care," he said softly. "Because I'm the only one you can't convince."

"No. It's not. I just want _you_ to know that I'm not Kira. If L has to think that, fine, but can't Ryuuzaki just... love me? Like you said you do? I mean..." I didn't know where to go from that. I shook my head and let the sentence die. "So, do you want me to move my stuff back to my own room, then?" I asked sadly, letting go of him.

What I was really asking was: _So, do you still want this, now that we're back here?_

_I_ did. I knew that much. And I think he knew what I was really asking.

He still didn't look up at me, but he said, quietly, "Please don't."

His unspoken reply to my unspoken question: _Yes_.

"Light-kun," he started. He came to a hard stop and looked at me, finality in his expression. "I can no longer be objective."

"What?"

"How I have been functioning until now, how I have been able to love you and simultaneously attempt to prove you are Kira, and send you to your death... I could do it before, because I was both L and Ryuuzaki. L wanted to catch Kira, and Ryuuzaki loved Light. But, as I assume you recall, you changed that. Because L and Ryuuzaki are one in the same... we can't go against one another. I have tried to consolidate our separate goals, but it is impossible. I must choose. I must either prove that you are Kira and have you arrested, or I must..."

And all of a sudden he was on top of me, all around me, tipping me over onto my back and pinning me, his forearms on either side of my head, staring into my eyes. "Higuchi confessed to being Kira. Higuchi is Kira. But is Light-kun also Kira? This is what has been going through my mind." He stopped again.

My heart was going crazy. I was dizzy. I didn't know why; it wasn't like we hadn't done this before. But there was so much emotion in L's words, so much desperation... His big, dark eyes flickered with doubt for a moment, but what it was that he doubted, I had no idea.

"Ryuuzaki?" I prompted him.

Instead of replying, he dominated my lips. I could taste his desperation, his confusion, his hurt. He still didn't believe me. He _still_ thought I was Kira, and he thought I was lying about it.

Was he... crying?

I pulled back to look at him.

He was.

Granted, there were no tears. His eyes weren't red, weren't glazed. But he'd either dropped on purpose or been unable to maintain his normal block on his emotions, and I could see it all. Pain. Conflict. Love. Rivalry. Confusion. Desperation. Hope.

Agony.

"Light-kun, are you Kira?"

"No," I replied simply. I wasn't. I couldn't be.

"Light," he said, dropping the honorific. "You _are_ Kira. I _know_ this. Please. Confess. I will not... I can not... turn you in. They would kill you, call it the death penalty. And... I cannot watch you die. If you tell me now, if you confess it now, right here, I can save you. I... I will make you stop killing. I will use my influence to get you out of trouble, help you find a way to never get caught. You wish to create a world without criminals, a utopia. Light-kun... Kira... if we work together... for _my_ side of Justice... we can create that... without so much blood on your hands..."

"I'm _not Kira_," I insisted as sincerely as I could. Long years of acting all the time had made it hard for me to sincerely be sincere. "If I was, I would tell you right now, right this moment. I can't lie to you, not like this. I'm not."

"Light-kun, I _know that_ _you are_. You must be. There is no one else it could be... I know that you are..."

"Ryuuzaki, how can you know something that isn't true?" I pleaded.

"Because even now, when my body and my heart cry out for you- even now I believe it, as I have believed it for a very long time, and if I can still believe it even in the face of such overwhelming personal bias... then..."

My heart broke and I kissed him quickly. I pulled back and looked into his bottomless eyes, searching for a change.

More pain. And more love.

"I'm not Kira," I told him for the millionth time. "I'm sorry that I don't have a better answer. But I'm simply _not Kira_. Ryuuzaki, I swear to you. I'm not."

I knew, though, that I would never be able to convince the one I loved that I wasn't the one he hated most of all.

I reached out to him, touched his face. "You chose me over L," I whispered.

"Evidently," he murmured, nosing into my hand, inhaling deeply.

"I'm sorry," I said at the same volume. "I... would never have _asked_ you to change yourself." I chuckled hollowly. "Well, maybe except for how you never brush your hair."

My poor attempt at humor did not have the desired effect. I meant to relieve the tension, to change the subject (changing the subject, like making a chart, always helped, after all). I _didn't_ mean, though, to make him do what he did. Not that I complained.

He ignored my comment and kissed me again, slowly, deeply, slipping his fingers from my face to my hair. He did something with his overly-talented tongue that made me moan, something that no one had ever done to me before, as many people as I'd been with in the past.

"I love you so much," I breathed.

I felt him try to smile a bit and he replied around our kiss, "The last time you said that, you were mostly asleep and wishing me a good night."

I couldn't stop kissing him. It was impossible. I noticed that he wasn't stopping either, so I figured this was okay. It was gonna have to be, because when he glided his fingers down to my shirt buttons, I came very close to losing control. I let him undress me as delicately as he had removed the handcuffs, brushing my skin with his fingers, stooping down occasionally to kiss my lips or my throat or my chest. When I was naked, I paused, looking at all of him for such a long time that he'd have blushed, had he been anyone else. I couldn't understand why this man was so beautiful.

He took my hand and pulled me onto his lap, and somewhere in my mind I was coherent enough to be impressed that he knew about this kind of thing. Although, knowing my porn-writing detective's hobbies, I shouldn't have been surprised. He touched me gently, almost reverently, dragging his fingertips along my chest, my sides, my stomach, lower. Without a word, he molded our bodies together, pressing into me, curling up around me and putting his chin on my shoulder, holding me from everywhere, and all I knew was _him_.

And we made love, our bodies moving in perfect synchronization, silent except for our labored breathing, his occasional quiet moan, my occasional sharp intake of breath. He finished in me with a shuddering sigh, using his hands to take me with him, and one of us whispered _I love you_ although I didn't know who, but it didn't really matter because the other said it back and his hands moved to my face, holding it, gazing at me, his eyes glazed with lust and the love he had just professed. He laid me down gently, lying next to me, taking me in his arms and holding me close.

I bundled into him and listened to his heartbeat as it slowed to normal. I fell asleep to its steady rhythm.

* * *

**"You touched my heart, you touched my soul, you changed my life and all my goals.**

**And love is blind and that I knew when my heart was blinded by you.**

**I've kissed your lips and held your hand, shared your dreams and shared your bed.**

**I know you well, I know your smell; I've been addicted to you."**

**-Goodbye My Lover, James Blunt**


	26. Chapter Twenty Six

**Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note. I do own C.**

**A/N: Shit, meet fan. Fan, meet shit. The two of you are about to be very good friends.**

* * *

I woke up to the one I loved looking at me with huge dark eyes, stroking my hair absently with long, pale fingers. I didn't know how that hadn't woken me, but it was nice. I hummed my approval and snuggled back into the sheets. So warm. The blankets were nice and there was sunlight leaking through the window, touching my face with perfect golden light. "Did you sleep at all?" I mumbled to him.

"No," he said contentedly.

"Sorry I fell asleep _on_ you." I laughed a little. "Must have made it hard to work. Or to write your porn."

"I did not mind. It gave me the opportunity to watch you sleep. It was quite entertaining- you do not usually talk in your sleep, Light-kun."

I paled. If I'd had the dream about giraffes again... and if I _talked_ about it... he'd never let me live it down. No doubt he would remind me that giraffes are quite large and therefore could not be hiding under my bed. I _knew_ that... it just freaked me out, is all. "What did I say?" I asked warily, forcing my body into an upright position. He sat up after me, absently rubbing his chest to return circulation to it.

Not that it really mattered, I guessed. He knew everything already. And so what if he'd tease me about giraffes? Maybe he'd laugh again. That would be nice.

"You moaned my name a few times," he said lightly. "That, and you complained extensively about the cafeteria food served in your middle school."

"It was some terrible stuff," I said solemnly. "Wammy's gave you guys actual, edible food. You wouldn't understand."

"A fact for which I am eternally grateful," he replied somberly.

He smiled and randomly put his arms around me, dragging me back into a prone position on the bed. I had no objection to this, so I held him close and took full advantage of it. His chest was warm where I had slept on it, as opposed to the rest of his body- perpetually cool. He began to play with my hair.

_That _was unusual. Sure, he'd stroked it before, but he was out-in-out playing with it.

It seemed like he wasn't holding back how he normally did. Maybe because he had decided that I wasn't Kira.

Or that I was, and that it didn't matter.

Either way, he had made a decision. I turned my head and kissed him, sweetly and chastely, my lips just barely brushing his.

And then the last piece of the puzzle clicked into place, and I screamed.

I shot straight up in bed and my hands flew to my head, clutching and twisting my hair, actually tearing it out, still screaming. L scrambled up, eyes huge, and seized my wrists, forcing them away from me to stop the self-destruction. Still I screamed, trying to wrench away from him but failing, twisting, thrashing. My voice gave out for a moment but I continued to scream silently, until it kicked back in louder than it had started. He was begging me to stop, letting go of my wrists to hold my face and try to force me to look at him, but the second he let go my hands flew to my head again, forcing him to pin my wrists and plead with me as best he could, calling my name over and over. I didn't hear a word of it. The Death Note. Ryuk. Rem. Misa's eyes. Shinigami. L. Kira. L, do you know? Gods of death love apples. The man's face... the man from all the flashes, the ones that stopped when I realized he was Kira... he looked like me from behind because... it _was_ me... _I was Kira. I was Kira. I was Kira. I was Kira. I was Kira. I was Kira. I was Kira. I was Kira. I was Kira. I was Kira. I was Kira. I was Kira. I was Kira. I was Kira. I was Kira. I was Kira. I was Kira. I was Kira. I was Kira. I was Kira. I was Kira. I was Kira. I was Kira. I was Kira. I was Kira. I was Kira. I was Kira. I was Kira. I was Kira. I was Kira. I was Kira. I was Kira. I was Kira. I was Kira. I was Kira. I was Kira. I was Kira. I was Kira. I was Kira. I was Kira. I was Kira. I was Kira. I was Kira. I was Kira. I was Kira. I was Kira. I was Kira. I was Kira. I was Kira. I was Kira. I was Kira. I was Kira. I was Kira. I was Kira. I was Kira. I was Kira. I was Kira. I was Kira. I was Kira. I was Kira. I was Kira. I was Kira. I was Kira. I was Kira. I was Kira. I was Kira._

And I screamed.

L finally tackled me, pinning me back to the bed despite my struggles, and slammed his mouth down onto mine, plastering them together, cutting my lip and surely bruising his own. I tried to resist him, animalistic, clawing, but L was too strong and his mouth too demanding, and after a moment my reflex action of returning the familiar lips' kiss kicked in.

Tears streamed freely down my face and his too, at seeing me have what must have appeared to be some kind of fit right in front of him. When he pulled back to look at me, I was sobbing harder than I ever had in my life, my entire body shaking. He kissed me again, desperately. "Light! _What just happened to you_?"

I clutched at him, curling up underneath him, nearly crushing him to me. "I saw the face, Ryuuzaki," I choked out at a whisper.

I watched as he worked to figure out what I was saying. I would have elaborated, but I couldn't even form a coherent thought. Because I was Kira, and I had killed people. Hundreds of people. Maybe a thousand people, maybe even more. And the ones I hadn't killed directly- like the people Higuchi killed as Kira, the ones Misa killed... all that blood on my hands... all that blood...

Yes, I knew more than the Wammy children did about death.

I had an almost perfect memory... I could remember every name... hundreds. Hundreds of hundreds. So much blood. So many hearts that would never beat again, ever. So many people who... who had someone that they _loved_, that I had taken away from them, or taken them away _from_... people who loved someone like I loved L... and I...

I could only shudder through my whole body, digging my fingernails into L and squeezing my eyes shut.

When I closed my eyes, I could see the faces. So many faces.

I opened them right back up, tears flowing freely, just in time to see understanding click into L's features in the way I loved so much. "And... whose face is it?" he asked vacantly. He knew. He already knew, but I had to say it.

No, if I didn't say it, then it wasn't true. We could go back to five minutes ago when I was warm in his arms instead of how I was now- cold, cold, cold, freezing, frozen, cracking, shattering, splintering...

Another sobbed cleaved through me. I was sure it would break me in half as I croaked out, "Mine."

Ryuuzaki became very, very still.

I couldn't lose him. Not like this. Not in _any_ way, but _never_ like this. I hadn't _thought_ I was lying to him, I hadn't _thought_ I really _was_ this _thing_... that the person I had been seeing over and over could ever have been _me_. That it was _me_ picking up the notebook, that it was _me_ hiding a little TV in a bag of chips, that it was _me_ killing people, hundreds of people, _thousands_ of people. That it was _me_ who knew everything there was to know about the Death Note. That it was _me_ who had planned to kill L. I remembered hating him so fiercely... the one I now _loved_...

_**No!**_ The negation tore through me almost harder than my realization had. No! There was a plan in place to kill L! I needed to talk to Rem immediately, right away, now, post-haste, without delay, instantaneously! That must have been why I started getting my memories back. I had hated him so much before... _so much_... then all the contact with him, _loving_ him... must have... and then that kiss, purely love... and now there was a plan that he would... no!

I had to calm down- I forced myself back from hysteria with a heavy, shuddering breath. If L didn't prosecute Misa as the second Kira, Rem would have no reason to kill him. It would be okay until I could talk to her. Alright.

Which left only the fact that I had more blood on my hands than C's.

What had I done? _Why_ had I done it? Because I was _bored_? Because I'm such a fucking megalomaniac that I decided I would change the world... and become a god? What kind of arrogant, horrible... Why had I ever thought that I could become a _god_? Was I totally _insane_? Why...?

Except, I also remembered planning to get the Death Note back. Remembered badly wanting the plan to work, because I wanted the notebook back. Why did I want it back? What about it made me want something so... so horrible, terrible, evil? If I hated criminals so much, why was I willing to become one? I remembered something about thinking of myself as a martyr. Why would that be worth it? My _soul_?

_Anyone who uses a Death Note can neither go to Heaven nor to Hell. The place they go is called MU (Nothingness). _

I'd traded everything for a new world, because there was nothing else to give everything _to_.

But now there was, and I couldn't give it to him, because I'd made a trade that I had thought, at the time, was totally worth it.

And why, now, _still, _did I want to use it _again_?

I knew what would happen, so it wasn't curiosity. The memories felt real enough (so real, so much blood, so cold), so it wasn't to confirm it. I didn't want to kill anyone, so it wasn't for my old reasons, my delusions of grandeur.

Something was wrong. Something was wrong in my brain, in my chemicals. Something...

But Ryuuzaki still had not let go of me. He was squeezing me so tightly that it was hard to breathe, but I didn't want him to loosen up. Maybe he'd kill me. Maybe that would be the right thing to do. Maybe I should make him turn me in, or I could turn myself in. Or I could _do_ myself in, just write my own name in the Death Note... there'd be a certain poetic justice to that, wouldn't there be? Dying the way I caused so many people to die...

"Save me," I begged at a whisper before I knew what I was saying. I said it so quietly that I didn't expect him to hear, even as close as we were at that particular moment.

Of course, he heard me perfectly. His grip tightened on me even more and he wrapped his body around me protectively. "I will," he replied quietly, and his low voice, his breath, and the blood on my hands were my whole world. "I told you before. I will not and cannot watch you die."

* * *

**"How can you see into my eyes like open doors?**

**Leading you down into my core where I've become so numb.**

**Call my name and save me from the dark.**

**Bid my blood to run before I come undone,**

**Save me from the nothing I've become."**

**-Bring Me to Life, Evanescence**

* * *

**A/N: Yes... I'm very glad I'm not Light. On so many levels!**


	27. Fighting for Years

**Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note.**

**Edited by Rekhyt!**

* * *

A knock at the door broke my concentration on the guilt that was tearing my soul to shreds, leaving me in shattered little pieces all over the floor and bed and end table.

"Ryuuzaki?" said a distinctly British voice, an accent I had gotten very used to during my trip to Winchester. It was strange hearing British-accented Japanese. "I am sorry to disturb you, but I must have a word."

"You may come in, Watari," L said pleasantly.

WHAT! "Are you crazy?" I hissed, trying to hide my face, trying to pull away from my insane lover, because I didn't need Watari to see us like this. Despite my best efforts, the insane lover in question held me fast.

"There is no sound on the cameras in our room," L told me under his breath, squeezing my arms almost painfully. Clearly I was not to escape from this situation. "If he asks, we will tell him you were experiencing night terrors."

I nodded reluctantly, more to show that I understood than to really _approve_ of the development, wiping stray water from my eyes and willing my face back to its normal color.

The old man opened the door and, like the gentleman he was, did not even flinch at the sight of his 'son' and Kira tangled up in bed together, naked. Of course, he had probably seen what we had actually done, but it was more awkward in real life. Plus, the night before, Watari had been the _last_ thing on my mind. Now he was right here. So awkward.

Maybe he'd kill me if he knew I was Kira! I opened my mouth, but Ryuuzaki, seemingly knowing my intentions, kicked me under the sheets. I closed my mouth.

"Higuchi has killed himself," Watari informed us in his normal voice. Maybe that tone was like his version of Ryuuzaki's monotone. "He was found dead in his cell. He woke up from the sedation, sliced open his wrists with his teeth, and then bit off his tongue. He bled to death before we could acquire assistance."

L didn't even blink. He didn't move much, he didn't flinch, and he didn't frown. Maybe he had been expecting this. "Very well," he said politely. Then, just as affably, "Watari, please identify our next case."

Watari stared at him for a good ten seconds before responding. "What?"

"Kira is dead, the case is closed," L elaborated. "Please burn the notebook- it is related to Kira and must be destroyed. Please also destroy anything else obtained from Higuchi's person, and the body itself. Use any means you deem appropriate."

Watari stared for a few more minutes, his expression somewhere between confusion and horror.

"That is all." L said it lightly, but it was not to be ignored.

They stared at each other for a long, long time. Then Watari nodded and left.

The moment he was gone, I rounded on L. "You can't destroy the notebook!"

"Because anyone who has touched it will die?"

How did he know that 'rule' already? "I made up the two rules on the back cover to throw off anyone who got hold of it," I informed him quickly. "But listen to me, Ryuuzaki. You can't destroy that notebook. You don't know-" I couldn't think of a reason.

For a long, painful moment, he didn't say a word. "I do know. While you were asleep, Watari brought me a photocopy of the rules on the inside covers of the Death Note. '_The human whose name is written in this Note shall die.' _I have not yet been able to look inside the notebook itself, but I am sure that it contained a great many names. The notebook is Kira's means of murder. The evidence did not point conclusively to you, so the likelihood of your being Kira did not reach 100 percent, but suffice it to say that it increased greatly. But it wasn't proof, with just the rules, and there was that thirteen day rule, of which I'm sure you are aware. That rule allowed me to believe, when you woke up, that perhaps I was wrong. Until your confession, of course," he added.

"What if you need to know something about it later?" I suggested frantically.

"You know everything there is to know about it. You have an eidetic memory. If I have any questions, I can simply ask you."

"But... it... it could be evidence!" For reasons I couldn't understand, I was casting about wildly for a way, _any_ way, to stop the little black book that had sucked up my soul from being burned. "The handwriting in it... or... the names and the details..."

"Precisely," L said, deadly calm. "As I'm sure you have realized at one time or another, Light: no notebook, no proof, no prosecution. Doubtless, you took great pains to ensure that it would never be discovered. I said I would save you; that is exactly what I intend to do."

No honorific. "But..." BUT I couldn't find a reason _not_ to destroy it, except for the fact that I didn't _want_ to. Why didn't I want to? "No. Yeah," I finally agreed. I shook my head to clear it. "You should destroy it." I nodded. "Good idea."

He gave me a blank look, then got out of bed. I automatically followed him, but it was unnecessary- no more handcuffs.

"So... are you going to have to reattach us?" I ask him as he dressed, indicating my wrist.

"No. The notebook is in Watari's possession and will shortly be destroyed. It is pointless."

Cold tone. Distant. Not my L.

He seemed to realize this as I did, because he softened. Something in me relaxed when he added in his best 'mischievous' voice, "Not that I would object should you wish to use them in the future for other, recreational activities."

If I hadn't still been internally writhing in guilt, that would have turned me on. "Ryuuzaki, I'm sorry," I said.

"For what?"

For everything. For dragging him into this, for everything I'd done, for all the stupid things I'd ever said to anyone, for every bad choice I'd made along the way, for thinking I could change the world, for thinking I could become a god. Everything.

"For... being Kira," I told my feet.

He stopped, his bare, scarred back to me. I traced that scar with my eyes, following its wicked, precise twists and turns. He didn't look at me.

"Do not apologize again," he said finally. His voice was old and utterly exhausted. "Stop now, or you will never stop, and it will become the only thing you ever say to me. And _that_," he stopped for a moment and turned around, looking thoughtful, "is no way to have a relationship." He smiled a little, but it was a broken smile. "I am giving up everything I have for everything that I _want_- for the first time, doing something I truly desire, for no logical reason. Do not make that sacrifice amount to nothing by changing the thing that I am fighting for... by changing 'us,' if I may use such a rudimentary term."

I didn't exactly know what to say to that. It was true. He was giving up everything. If someone found out I was Kira, and if they found out he was hiding me because of personal feelings (or "to use Light-kun's intellect for the side of Justice" as he would probably claim to save the both of us), it would all be over for him. And for me.

"Have you ever noticed, Light," he mused, "that humans will fight for years to regain something they had for only days?"

"What do you mean?" I asked, even though I knew.

He knew that I knew, of course, so didn't repeat himself, didn't explain. Instead, he said, "It is morning. You are finally free to enjoy your time in the restroom. I will be assisting Watari in finding a new case."

"Yeah," I said vaguely. "I'll meet you down there. Weird, huh?"

He nodded and exited.

I sat on the bed for a while and had a good stare at the floor. I would have cried, but I was simply too tired and too... I don't know.

I did want that time in the bathroom, but now it was more because I _knew_ I wanted it than because I actually _wanted_ it. It was just a force of habit. A habit that I didn't have to keep up now if I didn't want to. A repentant Kira... how should he look? What would he wear?

My entire being rejected that thought pattern. I simply couldn't do it right now. There was no way.

Besides, the sooner I talked to Rem, the better.

There were still things Ryuuzaki didn't know.

* * *

I finally managed to find her hanging around the room that Matsuda, Mogi, and Aizawa inhabited. I stood subtly in the doorway until she saw me, and then I gave her a look that told her I wanted to talk to her.

She casually drifted out of the room, which thankfully no one seemed to notice. I was immediately glad that L was not in that room. _He_ would have noticed. She followed me down the hall until we were well out of earshot. When I knew it was safe, I stopped and faced her.

"Light Yagami. You have your memories back," she commented in her slow, expressive voice. I remember being totally shocked when I heard that voice, that it was _female. _I'd never really gotten used to the _look_ of her, either.

"Yes," I replied. "But I haven't touched the Death Note. How did that happen?"

"Touching the Note is not the only way to regain one's memories of it. There are others. You stumbled upon one- contact with someone you have strong memories of during your time in possession of the Death Note."

That's what I had thought. The revelation gave me no sense of pride, however; I was no longer proud of the fact that I understood the Death Note so well that I could predict it. I nodded, then said, "Let me get to the point. Ryuuzaki is no longer pursuing Misa, or me. In fact, he has closed the Kira case. Misa is not and never again will be in danger. I am retiring as Kira. There is no longer any need to kill Ryuuzaki for any reason, and, since Watari is shortly going to destroy the notebook, there is no reason for you to stay here." It wasn't my most charismatic speech ever, but hey, I'd been through a lot. Plus, she hated my guts, so it didn't much matter how I presented it.

She looked at me for a long time before evidently deciding that she believed me. "Very well, Light Yagami."

I wished that I could read her expression, but it was too inhuman for me to truly know what she was thinking. "You should go back before they notice you're gone," I told her.

I knew I was acting differently than how she remembered me, but I couldn't control that. I didn't _want_ to have been Kira. It was like I was paying for someone else's sins, and there was nothing I could do about it.

Perhaps in response to this change, she obediently floated back into the room.

_Now_ it was bathroom time.

Feeling absolutely no better, just slightly less worried, I made my way to the bathroom Ryuuzaki and I shared. It was the longest I had been away from him in a while, even though it had only been about half an hour, and it was entirely strange. And somewhat lonely. I wondered briefly if that was the normal kind between lovers (missing each other, wanting to be together), or if it was separation anxiety. Maybe a little bit of both.

Regardless, I was in the bathroom, and I finally had the freedom to make myself look as nice as I wanted. My hesitation from earlier hadn't gone away, but I pushed it way, way down. I didn't want to look at myself, but hopefully that would go away.

Before I even got a look at the mirror, though, I saw the little slips of Band-Aid backing, the ones that he had put next to him on the counter when I had cut my knee and he had kissed it, so, so long ago.

It felt like forever. It had only been days.

My mind reeled with how much had changed. When he had put that Band-Aid on me, I hadn't killed C. I hadn't known Matt or Mello or Near. I hadn't remembered I was Kira. I hadn't loved the awkward detective I had been _so_ very thrilled to be handcuffed to.

There had been a time like that, hadn't there. When I had been innocent- relatively- and when I hadn't loved him. Hadn't loved _anyone_, for that matter.

So much had changed... but what if there was more? How did I know that I really had _all_ my memories back?

...If I touched the Death Note again... what else might I remember?

* * *

**"When my time comes, forget the wrong that I've done.**

**Help me leave behind some reasons to be missed.**

**And don't resent me, and when you're feeling empty,**

**Keep me in your memory, leave out all the rest."**

**-Leave Out All the Rest, Linkin Park**


	28. Tourniquet

**Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note.**

**A/N: The first part of this chapter is super awkward- yay! :D**

**As you may have noticed, yes, I do chop up the songs at the end of the chapters. I do this because, while it is important for the last chapter of this story, putting lyrics at the end of a chapter is really against my usual style. Also, they would take up too much space if I left them. ALSO also, I sometimes only those lines really apply.**

* * *

So that was it, then. I would have to go after the notebook that I had left buried under the tree in the woods. I would have to do it totally behind Ryuuzaki's back, because there was no question that he would try- and succeed- to stop me.

And there was something that I had to do.

I nodded to my reflection, then left the bathroom without even touching my hair.

As I was putting on my coat, I accidentally caught my father's eye. That wasn't what I wanted, so I tried to casually look away, but he had already moved in on me. Ryuuzaki must have already told everyone that we were no longer handcuffed, because he didn't look surprised to see me freed of my bonds.

"Light," he said, his voice revealing nothing, "may I have a word with you?"

"Sure Dad," I said in my best Perfect Son voice. The voice that worked every time, that he had never seen through, ever, even when I was at my worst. Like now.

Why was Ryuuzaki the only one that had ever been able to tell? Been able to see through me? Ryuuzaki had known from the moment he met me something that _I_ hadn't even known about me- that I happened to be the murderer his whole case was revolving around. And my dad, loving as he was, hadn't even known when I snuck out of the house or when I smuggled a girl (or a guy) into my room. He hadn't known that anything was different when I started to realize that I was smarter than everyone thought I was, when they already thought I was a freaky-genius. He hadn't been able to tell when I stopped bringing friends around, because I didn't _have_ any friends, not_ really_, because there was no one who could keep my attention.

But in an instant, Ryuuzaki had known everything. He always did.

"Son," my father said, laying a heavy hand on my shoulder, "Before you left for Winchester, do you remember that announcement Ryuuzaki made? When he said that the two of you had slept together?"

I groaned inwardly. It was finally time for The Talk that had been looming since he had given me the Significant Look. Yes, I remembered. How could I possibly forget that? _Ever_. Even if I _tried_. Which I had. Hard.

"He was just joking," I lied. "We didn't really... I mean..."

"I trust your word if you say you didn't do it," (yet more proof that my father couldn't see through me like L could) "but I saw your reaction. It told me that it was not something that was out of the realm of possibility."

This was the last thing I wanted to be discussing with my father. My mother? Maybe. Because 'mothers always know' anyway, right? But my _father_? Straight-laced Soichiro Yagami? _Straight_ Soichiro Yagami? How do you explain something like this?

I opened my mouth to respond, but apparently he wasn't done talking. "Light, it doesn't matter to me if you're gay. It doesn't- you have to trust in that. I would just like to know."

_Then_ he stopped. _Then_ I had to answer.

"I'm not... gay..." I said haltingly. "I'm..." My charisma rarely failed me, but that was exactly what it was doing at that moment. "I don't know. I've-" I edited some things "-dated before, both guys and girls, but I've never really been attracted to anyone except... you know... Ryuuzaki."

To my surprise, he relaxed. He smiled at me with that smile he _always_ gave me: pride. No matter what I did, as long as it wasn't illegal, he would always be proud of it.

Apparently that included if I were to do men. Well, sodomy hadn't been illegal in Japan since 1880, after all.

"Do you love him?"

My father was full of surprises today. He had talked to me about love a long time ago, but only once. It was probably when he had first started to suspect that I wasn't firmly into women, I realized now, because he hadn't used pronouns like 'she' or 'he.' He had referred to 'someone' or 'the person' or 'the one you love.' I had to admit, that was good parenting. And he had talked about how he felt about Mom, and it was... okay, yes, fine, it was beautiful.

"Yeah," I answered. I debated the line that followed, but in the end I decided to say it. "More than anything." More than _anything._

"I know it's still early, but, as your father, I have to ask. Have you taken the next step with him? I want to talk to you about safety."

"Dad..." I begged.

"No, it's important. Especially in a homosexual relationship, you have to take special care your first time. You could physically hurt each other quite badly without even meaning to. And, since you love him, I know that that's not something you would want to do." He stuttered a bit and then added, "Or, ah, have done to you." He looked at the ceiling for a short moment, calmed himself, and then refocused on me. That smile was back in place, as genuine as ever.

If only he knew. Like, _really_ knew, how many people I'd slept with in an effort to _feel something for them _before I met Ryuuzaki. I would have to count.

_Ryuuzaki's_ list was significantly shorter, of course.

"It's... um..." Stupid fluctuating charisma. "It's already been a few times with us and... yeah... we're okay."

"Oh," he said neutrally. "Alright then. Did you use the proper protection?"

_Really_ wanted this conversation to end now...

"Ah... no. But... he'd never... before... so I'm not going to catch anything..."

Charisma fail! Epic charisma fail!

"Alright," he said awkwardly, but confidently. "You know that you can always talk to me, right? I am your father. You can tell me anything. I'll always be on your side."

For a split second, I almost told him I was Kira. Maybe he would kill me. He had been convincing enough in the car at the end of my confinement. I shuddered. If I had remembered myself then, would I have killed him?

_Yes_, I knew instantly. I would have. I would have happily sacrificed my father. I would have done it in an instant, and I wouldn't have cried about it.

Would I do it now?

Not for the Death Note. Not for Kira.

Would I do it for Ryuuzaki?

The fact that I again didn't have to hesitate scared me, and I felt a rush of sympathy with Ryuuzaki for having to choose between L and me.

Because yes. I would. I'd sacrifice my father to save the one I loved. How I felt about my father was nothing compared to how I felt about Ryuuzaki. How I _needed_ Ryuuzaki. Yes, I'd sacrifice my father. I'd do it in an instant, and I wouldn't even cry about it. No, I _would_ cry about it. Just, it wouldn't be out of regret.

I didn't let this show on my face, keeping it at a careful neutral, throwing in a hint of 'uncomfortable' for good measure. After all, how can you explain to your parent (and that parent's unconditional love staring right straight at you) that someone you'd been with less than a _month_ is more important to you than they are? You don't.

"Yeah, Dad. Thanks."

He looked me hard in the eyes. "I love you, Light."

For some reason, it almost physically hurt to say it back. "Love you too, Dad."

Because I realized then that I didn't. Not really. I had respect for his values, for his devotion to his morals. I liked how straightforward he was, and I admired his passion about the law and family.

But I didn't love him.

If that made me a psychopath, I wouldn't be the slightest bit surprised. It would certainly _explain_ a lot.

But yeah, it made me feel like crap. Even _more_. Turns out it was, in fact, possible to feel worse than I had a few minutes before he had started talking to me.

My mind wandered back to the Death Note under the tree, which had been my destination until I was intercepted by my parental unit. Would my father rather I was dead, or Kira? Would Ryuuzaki be better off not giving everything up to save me? Now, when it wasn't too late. When it wasn't all over for him. Yet.

When he hadn't yet sold his soul for the love of the demon, but only picked up the pen.

Soon it _would_ be too late.

But more than that. More than how much I truly did care that I had screwed up his life, I just didn't want to exist anymore. Didn't want to feel like this. Didn't want to feel, period.

MU sounded nice. Sounded better than Hell, which is where I deserved to be, where I deserved to spend an eternity... separated from L like C was from B because it was the only fitting punishment.

Yeah, _that_ didn't sound obsessive at all.

My father nodded and patted my shoulder once more, and then went back to whatever it was he had been doing- probably wrapping up the reports for the Kira case, under L's orders.

I, on the other hand, finished zipping up my coat and stepped into the outside world.

I got a cab for part of the way. The space in the back seat felt empty and wrong without my strangely-postured detective. Luckily the driver wasn't chatty, because I would have replied with something nasty, mean, and probably monosyllabic. I got out as soon as it was reasonable and walked the rest. I wanted to get there, but I didn't want to get there in any kind of a _hurry_.

For the millionth time in my life, I thanked my memory; I found the tree with next to no effort. I also found the small rock I had used as a marker and located the spade I had hidden in a hollow tree near it.

I dug up the notebook.

I didn't pick it up immediately. For a long, long time I merely stared at it. Such an innocent-looking, non-obtrusive little thing. It only appeared sinister because of the association I held for it. Because that's what it was: it was just a weapon of mass-murder. Between the various Death Notes that I had been in possession of, I had killed more people than I could take the time to count. I could remember every name and every face., but I don't know if I always got everyone's name right, so any number my memory would produce would be terribly inaccurate.

Finally, I touched it. There was no revelation, nothing dramatic, no more screaming. I sighed in relief, but I supposed it didn't really matter. Whether I remembered anything _new_ or not, I still knew what I was here for, what I wanted.

I picked up the pencil I had stored with the notebook. While I disliked pencils (they changed lengths with use and were therefore not uniform in size, which my OCD scoffed at), a pen would have frozen.

First, I wrote: _'I'm sorry.'_

And then I began to write my name.

* * *

**"Am I too lost to be saved? Am I too lost?**

**My God, my tourniquet, return to me salvation.  
**

**My soul cries for deliverance.  
**

**Will I be denied Christ?  
**

**Tourniquet  
**

**My suicide."**

**-Tourniquet, Evanescence**


	29. No More

**Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note.**

**A/N: This has been brought up in the past. While at some point, a Shinigami does mention that one can't kill oneself with the Death Note, I justify Light's attempts with canon: after the Death Note series is an additional chapter by Ohba and Obata, published only in the Japanese Shonen Jump. In it, someone who owns a Death Note writes his own name and dies. There's a link to it (last time I checked) on RobinRocks 's profile. Maybe the Shinigami was lying?**

**Also! I'm aware that the following scene is unoriginal, but everything has to happen this way for the rest of the story to work.**

**Edited by Rekhyt!**

* * *

I had decided to write my name in English- I'd always liked the look of it better that way. I pretended that was my reason, but I knew the truth, although you couldn't have paid me to admit it: I just didn't want to have to write the Kanji for 'god.' Because that's what had started this whole disaster, wasn't it.

It wasn't strange. It didn't feel different. I had written so many hundreds of names, more than a thousand (so many, so many…), and it didn't feel any different just because it was now my own. My own name would be the final thing I wrote in the Death Note. That seemed appropriate. In fact, it seemed wrong for me to die any other way. I didn't deserve more.

I paused as I very, very slowly formed the letters of my first name with the slightly damp pencil, wondering if I should write details of my death when I finally finished. Should I make it interesting? Creative? Painful? Would suffering erase anything I had done? Could I atone at _all_ with pain? Was there a point to it?

Ryuuzaki wouldn't want me to torture myself, (Ryuuzaki wouldn't want me to be doing this, period, but that was beside the point) so no details, then. I'd do it the way I'd done it a million times.

Just, this time, it would be me.

Forty seconds, a heart attack, then it would all be over. No more Kira. No more murder, at least by me. No more, no more.

The cicadas. The crickets. The smell of the dirt, the trees, the green. The chilly breeze, combated effectively by my coat but ruffling my hair, as if encouraging me. Whether it encouraged me to do it or to change my mind, I didn't know.

Hard to imagine Nature supporting Kira, someone who was so very against it and defied all its rules. Unless it wanted all humans off it, in which case it would think Kira was the greatest thing since the Bubonic plague.

Regardless.

No more distractions.

The pencil was still intact as I lovingly formed each letter. Wasn't broken. The graphite was wet, but that wouldn't prevent me writing with it. It was light in my fingers, the painted wood smooth and sharply angled. Why was I noticing all these things? Had my mind told my body I was about to die? Were my senses just having a last go at things they had mostly ignored before?

It didn't matter. Less than a minute and I'd be dead. Less than a minute and it'd all be over.

"Light Yagami!" I heard behind me.

...It was Ryuuzaki. Of course it was. Who else would think to follow me? Who else knew me well enough to know that something was wrong when I showed no sign of it on my face- when my _father_ had just let me walk out the door, completely oblivious to the fact that I had fully intended to end my life.

And suddenly I was on my back on the damp grass and the one I loved was on top of me, pinning me with his entire body's weight, the Death Note ripped from my hands and flung away from both of us. It crumpled against the trunk of a tree, and I had the urge to collect it so that its pages wouldn't be crumpled.

L hit me across the face, hard. My nerves thrilled and stung where contact had been made, badly enough to make my eyes water.

"Light!" he shouted again, this time in anger. He hit me again and again, front hand, backhand, front hand again, furiously, cursing me with my own name with more anger than I had ever heard in his voice.

I didn't try to get up. I didn't resist him. I didn't try to stop him from hitting me. I _certainly_ didn't try to hit him back.

When he saw that I wasn't resisting, he slapped me once more and pushed off of me.

"Who were you trying to kill, Light?" Ryuuzaki yelled. He didn't seem to know what he was yelling, only that he had to get it out or burst. "Damn you, how is this ending Kira? How is _this_ fixing anything!" he demanded.

"It would have," I told him when he stopped shouting long enough for me to answer.

He just opened his mouth for a moment, but he was out of things to shout, so he marched himself over to the notebook and scooped it up. I calmly sat up on the forest floor, but made no move to stand or to approach him.

He flipped it to the most recent page and skimmed it at his usual impossible speed.

I watched his eyes when he reached the bottom of the page, where I had started my own name. I watched as he read the 'I'm sorry,' and then as his eyes moved over just a little bit more, to my name, where I had been just about to cross the 't.'

When he saw the "Lighl," his eyes went wide, he froze, and the notebook slipped from his fingers.

And then he was on me and I was once again on my back, and he was holding me, fingers digging into the skin of my face, kissing me, stroking my hair. He was saying my name again and again, but this time there were tears in his voice instead of anger.

He kissed me roughly, and now I could taste his tears.

"Why would you?" he whispered brokenly, petting me hard, kissing me everywhere he could access. "Light, Light... if I had been just a few seconds later... if you had..." He didn't seem to care that he was showing his emotions like a normal person, that he was barely himself. Apparently he wanted an actual answer.

"Because I'm Kira," I whispered. "How do you think someone can... _deal_ with that?"

He laid his head down on my chest and he finally, finally became Ryuuzaki again, bit by bit. I watched in fascination as he regained control one part of his face at a time, his lips, his color, his brow, and finally his eyes. I felt myself relax the moment he was back to the way I knew him best: blank.

The Death Note had again made unceremonious contact with the ground, and I had that same urge to go save it. I pushed it out of my mind to focus on the man pinning me to the forest floor.

"Not you too," he breathed. He fumbled around for my hand, taking it when he found it and bringing it to his chest, over his heart. "A and B and C and Mello and Near, but not you."

I didn't know what to say to that, so I said nothing at all.

We lay like that for a very long time. Eventually, I slowly put my arms around him. "Okay," I said quietly.

"What?"

"Okay," I repeated. "I won't. I won't try it again."

"Good." He said it casually, as if it were exactly what he expected I would say. He reluctantly removed himself from me and held out a hand to help me up after him.

If a person's hand can feel distant, then this one did. He let go as soon as I was up and walked away to retrieve the Death Note. He didn't say a word as I followed him back to his car.

Huh. Apparently L could drive and, as he swerved through traffic, appearing to pay no attention, I discovered that he could drive _well_. Unexpected.

I was getting nothing from him but waves of cold. The Death Note was on the side furthest away from me, where I couldn't possibly reach it without him seeing me.

He caught me staring at it, then frowned a little to himself. Before I could ask, he had refocused his eyes on the road.

"I'm sorry," I said quietly.

"Don't apologize," he said. His voice was ice, yet somehow completely indifferent. The combination was like a stab in the heart.

"I love you," I said, quietly desperate. Because I did. I loved him so much that I couldn't stand it. I wished I hadn't tried to do what I'd just tried to do, because now it was like this, and I had hurt him as badly as I probably _could_. But I wasn't lying, and it wasn't a statement. It was more like a plea.

"I know," he replied emotionlessly.

"Do you still love me?" I whispered. I was terrified of the answer, my heart was pounding in my ears. If he didn't, I wouldn't be surprised. It was too much to expect one person to accept in the course of two days. Hey, this is your lover. By the way, he's Kira. Oh, and he just tried to kill himself, too.

It was only a few minutes ago, and I already couldn't remember why I had wanted to. I understood that this was because L was with me. It was obvious what I was living for, what _Light_ was living for, despite Kira, when L was right there.

He cocked his head to the side, a motion that I was so familiar with that it made my heart beat even faster. Puzzlement filled his eyes where icicles had been before. "Of course."

I looked down. I didn't have to say out loud what I was feeling- it was clear enough, plus he could read me like a book.

"Light-kun, I said I love you," he continued when I said nothing. "If I have said it, it is because I always will. As you would say, 'That's just the way I am.'"

My own words from pre-confinement rang back at me, but I wasn't in a position to appreciate the irony.

We rode in silence until finally, finally, we were back at the Investigation Tower.

* * *

**"Falling in and out of love, ashamed and proud of, together all the while.**

**Don't let me go.**

**Picture you're the queen of everything,**

**As far as the eye can see, under your command.**

**I will be your guardian. **

**When all is crumbling, steady your hand."**

**-Never Say Never, The Fray**

* * *

**A/N: Okay, so, as I said, I'm not at all excited about this chapter. Bear with me.**


	30. Withdrawal

**Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note.**

* * *

Everything was going wrong and I didn't know how to fix it.

My heart pounded when I looked at him, and I wanted so badly to be close to him, but it was like there was a physical wall between us that I couldn't break through. I looked at him, opening my mouth to talk to this incredible creature with whom I was in love, but for the first time I couldn't find a single thing to say to him. I caught him looking at me several times, too. He must have been feeling the same thing.

I couldn't even figure out how to talk about how I had nothing to say.

I knew that it was my fault. I knew that if I wasn't Kira or at least hadn't remembered it, this wall would never have existed. Maybe if I just hadn't _told_ him when I remembered...

But no. You're not supposed to keep secrets from the one you love, right? That's what my dad told me that one time he brought the subject up. And that's what seemed like... the _right _thing...

If I hadn't just tried to off myself, I would have been able to find _something_ to say.

It didn't even matter what. But there was nothing. I couldn't get to him and he couldn't get to me, although we were both clawing at the mortar that held the stones between us.

I wiped some unexplainable sweat from my forehead as I made my way to our room. L did not follow, possibly to go destroy the Death Note.

I forced down the nauseated feeling that threatened to take me over at the thought of losing _that_ notebook, too, and picked up my pace. I didn't know _why_ I was going to our room, but it seemed like the right thing to do. Maybe in there we'd be able to talk, if he came up. Whatever the reason, I was sprinting by the time I got there, and threw open the door.

Nothing. There was no reason for there to be anything special there, but nevertheless I was disappointed. I also felt a little twitchy.

I sighed and dropped myself face-first into the plush covers of our bed. I couldn't breathe, but the average adult can hold their breath for one minute so I figured I had at least thirty seconds before I was forced to move. I turned my head when my allotted lung-capacity had been used, sighed deeply again, and drifted off to sleep.

Two hours later, I twisted and shot straight up, pulling the muscles of my lower back, when the door slammed open. The doorknob smashed into the drywall, leaving a cracked dent as if someone had punched it, powdered dust drifting to the carpet.

I looked at the person who had entered so violently, still groggy from the rude awakening.

It was L, and he was shaking.

"Watari just had a heart attack," he told me. His voice was low, hot, and restrained.

Fuck. How was I going to convince him that it wasn't me? That wasn't going to be easy, by any means.

"He was working on the Kira case, and he dropped dead of a heart attack." His hands were fists at his sides.

He would kill me. Love me or hate me, he would kill me if I'd killed Watari.

I immediately understood what must have happened. Rem must have seen that Watari was working on the Kira case, against orders, and realized that Misa was in danger. She must have killed him with her Death Note, and she was probably a pile of sand somewhere in the building at the moment.

"Ryuuzaki, it wasn't me," I said carefully but confidently. "I've been here, in this room. I was sleeping. Far away from the Death Note. I don't even know where it is. Check the cameras- I haven't moved."

"Light..." he said brokenly. "Light, how _could_ you? _Watari?_" He openly stared at me, eyes huge, flexing and clenching his fists, waiting for my answer. Praying that it really _hadn't_ been me.

"There's a way for a Shinigami to die," I said calmly, staring straight back at L. "He- or she- must develop feelings for a human, and then deliberately kill _another_ human in an effort to lengthen the life of the human they love. When they die, they turn into sand. Rem loved Misa, and she must have seen Watari's continued investigation as a threat to her life, and killed him. This would have lengthened Misa's life. Somewhere in this building will be a Rem-sized mound of sand with the Death Note on it."

He was hanging onto every word I said. _Anything_ to believe that I hadn't just killed Watari, no matter how absurd it sounded.

Damn it. Look what I had done to this man.

There was a time when he would never, ever have believed a single word I said. There was a time he would never, _ever_ have tried to forcehimself to believe anything that didn't make sense.

But then I came around, Light Yagami, and fucked everything up, sometimes literally. Destroyed him, or, at least, everything that he was. Between that and losing Mello, Near, and Watari in the course of a week, I was surprised that he was still standing and hadn't done what I'd tried to do. We could have died together. Wouldn't _that_ have been dramatic.

That expression. He so desperately wanted to believe me. Luckily, this time I was telling the truth. "Do you really think I could have made that up? I wouldn't kill Watari, Ryuuzaki. I couldn't do that to you. Not Watari."

L's shoulders slumped and he stumbled to the bed, dropping himself heavily next to me. He must have believed me, or at least forced himself to, because he lay down and curled up, placing his head in my lap. I only hesitated for a moment before beginning to run my fingers through his beautiful (mess of) hair.

He sighed and buried his face in my thigh. "Is there a reason that every person I care for dies?" he mumbled.

It was rhetorical so I did not reply.

I don't know how it happened. I honestly don't, but a moment later he was fucking my brains out. Seriously: don't ask me how that started, because I certainly wouldn't initiate something like that in the state he was in. But, as he made so abundantly clear, it _was_ happening.

It wasn't at all gentle and it wasn't at all quiet, and I sensed that he didn't exactly know how it had started, either, but neither of us was willing to stop it. Me, because I needed to be near him and needed him to feel better, to smile. Him, because he simply had to let go and because he wanted as badly as I did to break that wall down.

I was on my back, my legs wrapped around him as he worked above me, breathing in sync, our hearts beating in time. I wanted to cry but crying during sex is faux pas, so I focused the energy on moving with him, on forcing our bodies together harder, on kissing-crushing our lips into one entity around our labored breathing and gasps as we came simultaneously.

When it ended and we laid together, our sweat mingling, it was very strange; I couldn't sleep.

I stared at the ceiling through my closed eyes, pretending to be asleep for the benefit of the man next to me, who was, of course, awake. He might have known that I was faking, since he had seen me sleep so often.

I, yet again, wanted to cry, but I was so tired of crying. It really felt like I hadn't been doing anything else. And that had to stop. L had given up everything to save me, and look what I did. Or, I guess, what I had _tried_ to do. What I had come very, very _close_ to doing.

Watari. I should have told Rem... I didn't even _think_... I assumed that Watari would follow L's orders...

I moved deeper into the blankets, abandoning the pretense of sleep because it was pointless to try and trick a detective.

Okay. It was okay. I could deal with it, and I would, and it would all be fine. And I would never use the notebook ever again.

Good.

...Alright...

...We're cool...

Okay, so something was definitely wrong. Now that I was no longer distracted by L bursting into the room or fucking me, my mind was free to notice that my heart was racing, my skin was crawling, and my head was spinning. I could feel myself shaking. No, this wasn't right at all.

"Light?" I heard quietly from next to me. I must have been shaking harder than I knew; his voice held concern. "What's wrong?"

"I don't know," I said honestly. "I think I'm sick."

"Are you nauseous?"

"I... a little. Yeah, I think so." And now that he'd said it, I noticed that my stomach was roiling.

He creaked out of the bed and stood next to me. "We should migrate to the restroom, if you believe you are going to vomit."

I nodded, which awakened a headache like a stab in the forehead and temples. His cool hand was on my forehead a moment later, which helped a little, but also made my stupid heart- hearts suck, they cause _so much crap_- speed up even more. Dizzy now, I tried to get out of bed. My knees immediately gave out and I hit the floor before Ryuuzaki could catch me. He pulled me up, supporting me, mostly carrying me and putting me back on the bed.

"I will get a receptacle," he said. "Stay."

"Can't really move. Everything aches."

"Alright."

He padded away and I just laid there, limp and sweating. He came back some undefined amount of time later. I couldn't tell how long it had been, but he had a pail.

The metallic tang of it as he placed it next to me made my stomach heave again, and I put the pail to its intended use.

Through the haze of the fever I was developing, I saw him frown.

"Light, have you been taking illegal drugs?"

Would it hurt more to shake my head or to scrape out an answer? After some careful deliberation, I croaked, "No."

L, one thumb at his teeth, leaned in closer to get a better look at me. His hair brushed me and gave me a chill.

"Is it possible that someone may have 'slipped you something?'"

"Unless it was you?" My voice was like sandpaper. I didn't want to talk anymore; I wanted to puke for a while then sleep for thirty-two hours. I wondered if he'd let me.

"I am concerned," he admitted. "You are exhibiting withdrawal symptoms for multiple substances."

"How?" I managed. "Withdrawal? That doesn't make sense."

It didn't make sense because I hadn't taken anything, but it _did_ make sense because, as usual, he was right.

_'But for multiple substances?'_ I wondered as I slapped whatever wasn't actually crawling on my arm. The simple movement twisted my stomach in knots and I threw up again, the bitter taste making me long for my toothbrush, my one true friend. I was too weak to wipe my mouth, so I just dealt with it. L produced a washcloth seemingly from nowhere and cleaned me up.

I smiled pathetically at him. "Thanks."

He nodded, still frowning. "At this juncture, I suggest you go to the hospital..."

I shook my head and grimaced as the hot poker reacquainted itself with my inner eye. "Patient presented with flu-like symptoms, exhibited withdrawal without the presence of drugs, and was released the next morning. Also I don't want to move."

As the last word left my mouth, every muscle in my body clenched at once. Agony speared through me and I screamed along with it, unable to fight off the blackness that was crawling at the edges of my vision, slowly taking over. I was about to pass out, but I welcomed it with open arms. Maybe I'd go into a coma. That'd be great.

The last thing I saw before I blacked out was Ryuuzaki clawing his cell phone out of his pocket.

* * *

**"Tell me you won't give up, 'cuz I'll be waiting if you fall.**

**I wish I could save you."**

**-Save You, Simple Plan**

* * *

**A/N: I do know that that is not the only way for a Shinigami to die (the levels of punishment, etc), but it's the only way that **_**Light**_** knows of. :)**


	31. The Creatively Named Chapter

**Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note.**

**A/N: Edited by Rekhyt!**

* * *

I woke up, predictably, in the hospital.

I blinked myself into consciousness, not bothering with the classic, dazed, 'where am I?' Besides, Ryuuzaki was sitting right next to me, so I didn't have any questions. If he was there, it didn't matter where 'there' was. Even in the worst possible situations (like the kind which we've _already_ faced?) if we were together, we'd be more than able to think our way out of it. It was yet another one of the benefits of being a freaky-genius.

He saw that I was awake and squeezed my hand where he already held it.

"How long was I out?" I asked calmly.

"Fourteen hours," he answered immediately. No calculation necessary. Or, more likely, he had begun calculating when I started to show signs of waking up, knowing that it would be the first thing I asked.

"What have I missed?"

"Mogi found the notebook and put it in a safe place of my suggestion. Matsuda and Aizawa have begun Watari's funeral arrangements. No one knows that we are here; I thought it would be better to avoid complicated explanation. As for your condition, the doctors have called it withdrawal as well. I explained, but they have no other suggestions. They are working on it now."

He said it all matter-of-factly, even the part about his father-figure's funeral.

"Okay," I mumbled. "When is the funeral? If I'm still in the hospital, _someone _will have to know I'm here, because they'll have to come get me..."

He shrugged and ran his thumb comfortingly over the back of my hand. "If you are not released by the time of the funeral, I will not go without you."

"What?" I demanded. "But... it's _Watari_!"

L shrugged again. "And you are Light. He is already dead; my presence at the funeral will do nothing practical, except perhaps provide me some level of catharsis. Even then, the benefit would be only for myself."

"But it's Watari!" I repeated dumbly. I understood that I wouldn't be able to change his mind if he was determined, but for some reason I absolutely could not get it through my head that he didn't plan-

My phone rang, cutting through my confused thoughts. I automatically reached for my pocket, but hospital gowns don't have them.

I was more surprised than I should have been when Ryuuzaki fished my phone out of his pocket and handed it to me. I rolled my eyes at him and he cocked his head, gesturing for me to answer it.

I didn't look at the caller ID. I think I'll regret that for the rest of my life.

"Light! Where are you? I've looked _all over_!"

"Hello, Misa," I answered with a well-disguised sigh. Wait... if Rem was dead now... would I be able to kill Misa with no consequences...?

No, wait, I don't kill people anymore. Shit.

I ran my hand down my face as she assaulted my ear with meaningless nonsense. One thing stuck out to me, though. About a date.

"What?" I demanded.

"Our date! Don't you remember? You promised to go on a date with me! Before you went to England!"

I... vaguely remembered that? Maybe.

"Oh, of course," I soothed her. "It must have just slipped my mind. I'm a little busy right now, so I can't come right away. How about I surprise you when I'm free and just knock on your door and sweep you off your feet?"

That was why I'd always been good with girls. Because everyone, guy or girl, wants to be swept off their feet- the guys just don't want to hear you say it. If you've never had that feeling, it's because you've never met me. I'm honestly _that_ good.

I glanced at L, who was watching emotionlessly, the thumb of his free hand at his lips. I removed my hand from his and pulled his thumb away, mouthing, _'Hospital. Germs.' _He expressionlessly placed that hand on his lap and resumed holding mine with the other.

Misa was reacting positively to what I'd just told her. It got her off my back, but unfortunately I was now obligated to actually uphold what I'd said. I'd definitely have to touch the girl- I suppressed my gag reflex.

L looked bored as Misa's rambling pushed the ten-minute mark. He was looking around the hospital disinterestedly. He had probably already memorized every aspect of the place- he said I'd been out for fourteen hours and I knew he hadn't left at all during that time. (Knew because _I_ wouldn't have left.)

His eyes landed on me.

Uh-oh.

I shook my head slowly in warning, but a small, mischievous smile was growing on his lips. There was no turning back.

His long, thin fingers, which had previously been intertwined with my own, began to creep up my arm.

I knew what he'd be doing if I _wasn't_ in the hospital with an unidentified illness, and I was immediately glad that I _was_. This was bad enough.

You know, not _bad_ bad, but... bad.

He was dragging his fingers higher and higher up my arm, slowly, making me shiver. My noncommittal grunts that served as responses to Misa were becoming less and less appropriately timed as my stupid (amazing, incredible, mind-blowing, beloved) detective distracted me on purpose.

He was at my chest now. Geeze, those hospital gowns are _thin_. Anyone else ever noticed how _thin_ those hospital gowns are? Guess it made sense, since it was like two hundred degrees in here... couldn't have your patients overheating...

Misa had asked me a question. Dammit. I covered the phone and hissed something half-hearted at Ryuuzaki, who only chuckled darkly, before BS-ing an answer. She was satisfied and continued on, wasting yet more of my cell phone's minutes as The Great and Powerful L tortured me worse than he had tortured Higuchi.

I admit that it was bad form just there to bring up Higuchi.

L popped two fingers in my mouth just as I was expected to answer again.

Never mind! He deserved it! "Damn it, Ryuuzaki!" I shouted around the fingers, batting him away.

Misa babbled about wanting to know what was going on (_'did he just shove cake in your mouth?'_) but never actually gave me the chance to explain, for which I was grateful, because Ryuuzaki was dragging his now damp fingers down the crack in the back of my hospital gown, down my spine.

I glared at him, but it never occurred to me to just lean back so he couldn't get at me. He was having too much fun watching me turn redder and redder and making my answers to Misa become less and less articulate. How did he have the guts to do this in a hospital?

"Light, what's wrong?" Misa pouted. "Are you even listening to your own girlfriend?"

"Of course I am, Misa. I just miss you and hearing your voice is making me..." I let that trail off, mostly because I wanted to let her fill in the blank with whatever she wanted to hear, but also because Ryuuzaki was getting dangerously close to my rectum and it was starting to give me the issues I had credited to Misa's voice. That was a surprisingly well-structured sentence considering my state of mind at the moment. I mentally praised my brain.

Her voice dropped low, and I suspected that she was saying something intended to add to the problem. She was good at it, but I wasn't interested. Imagine, like, Santa Claus talking dirty to you. It's interesting and strange, but it's just not exciting _that_ way.

Anyway, it gave me an excuse to be reduced to a sexually-charged silence as Ryuuzaki... holy _fuck_ he-

A nurse walked in.

I cleared my throat and L, smoothly, shifted so that it looked like he was fixing my pillows for me or adjusting me on them. He patted me on the shoulder as he leaned back. "Better?"

"Much. Thanks," I replied casually. Thank you, acting skills.

"I gotta go, honey. Sorry," I said. I hung up without waiting for a goodbye.

Ryuuzaki and I stared at the nurse, who had the decency not to point out the tent midway down the bed. What's that called? Morning wood? Could we blame it on that? Even though it technically wasn't morning?

"How are you feeling, Yagami-san?" she asked politely.

"Um, better." I did a systems check. "Actually, I feel fine."

"That's great," she said kindly. "We were worried about you for a while. Can I get you anything?"

"No, thank you... do you know when I can leave?"

"The doctor will be by in a moment- he'll know more."

"Alright. Thank you."

She responded, then slipped out of my mucus-colored room.

"That nurse desires you," L informed me.

"What?" I hadn't noticed. And I was usually _better_ at this than he was! Was I losing my edge?

"Nothing," he said innocently, and folded himself up on his chair as if nothing had happened and he hadn't just finger-raped me.

_Damn_ I love that man.

A doctor swept in a few moments later.

He was significantly louder than the nurse; the kind of guy that filled up a room, made you want to sit up straighter. And kind of wish you _were_ straighter.

"Light Yagami, Doctor Shino. How are you feeling?" He smiled widely at me.

"Completely normal," I related.

"Great! So, your cousin answered them while you were out, but I have to ask you some questions personally, and run a few simple tests, as well. Would you like him to step out of the room?"

Ew. Ryuuzaki as my cousin.

"No, he can stay." L looked secretly pleased.

"Very well."

He looked at his clipboard and began rattling off questions.

"Have you had a change of diet?"

"No."

"Are you working at a different place?"

"Um... well, I'm working with... the police, and that's kind of new."

"Alright. Have your sleep patterns changed?"

"Yes, I've been traveling- England- and I've been rooming with my_ cousin_ here who is the loudest insomniac I've ever met." That was close enough to the truth to be medically accurate.

"Have you been exercising more or less?"

"Less, probably."

"How's your stress?"

"No higher than usual. I'm pretty high-strung." At least I know it.

"Have you changed your laundry detergent?"

"I'm mostly 'dry-clean only.'"

"How often do you consume alcoholic beverages?"

"Never."

"Use recreational drugs?"

"Never."

"Do you smoke?"

"No."

"Are you sexually active?"

"Yes."

"Is there a history of heart conditions in your family?"

"Yes, my father had a heart attack."

He looked up at me, uncomfortable. "I'm sorry, but I have to ask- was this a, um, a natural heart attack? Or..."

"Oh, he's still alive. It was just a heart attack." As Kira- _ex _Kira-, that was a very strange question to be on the receiving end of.

He looked relieved. "Okay, last question. History of cancer in your immediate family?"

"No."

"Well then, just a few exams and if everything checks out, you should be good to go."

He checked my ears, my nose, my eyes, my throat, my heart, my lungs, my reflexes, and, naturally, my prostate, during which Ryuuzaki looked (only to me, since only I could tell) a strange combination of turned on and uncomfortable. It probably didn't help that I made sex faces at him when the doctor couldn't see. Revenge is sweet.

After what felt like forever, the doctor proclaimed me free to go, which Ryuuzaki and I did, with much enthusiasm.

He (Ryuuzaki, not the doctor) drove us home (I feared for my life) and snuck me to our room so that I could clean up before anyone smelled the hospital on me and asked questions. Plus, I had to... have that date... with... Misa.

"You're coming with me," I informed my lover from the shower as he lounged in our room.

He opened his mouth to protest, but resigned when I popped my head out of the shower and gave him puppy eyes.

This was going to be bad enough as it was, and Watari's funeral was in only a few days (the 'next day' tradition was waived due to distance). We were both going to need some comic relief.

And that's just about the only thing my girlfriend is good for.

* * *

**"I miss the pull of your heart.**

**I can taste the sparks on your tongue.**

**I see angels and devils and God when you come on."**

**-Come on Get Higher, Matt Nathanson**

* * *

**A/N: A lighter-hearted chapter. Did you think I'd forgotten about the date Light promised Misa waaaay at the beginning of this fanfic? I bash her a lot. For the record, I don't even dislike her.**


	32. Just as You Are

**Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note.**

* * *

Eventually, I could not put it off any longer. The date with the goth loli from my own personal Hell _was_ going to happen, and there was nothing I could do to stop it.

L tried again to back out at the last minute, but I threatened him physically. Very creatively. He knew as well as I did that I would never actually hurt him, but my threats had the desired effect: he reluctantly followed me (up the stairs instead of the elevator- I was in _no_ hurry) to Misa's floor.

I knocked on her door, sighing when it swung open. I had hoped she wouldn't be there.

With a minuscule cringe, I stepped forward and took her in my arms. I tried to imagine she was L, but I just ended up with a very disconcerting and not entirely unpleasant picture of L in gothic lolita. I quickly forced my brain away from that image before it could burn itself into my mental retinas. As it stood, I was certain it would come back to haunt/ distract me at some point in the near future. Part of me was looking forward to that.

Um, anyway, Misa.

She finally noticed L behind me. Her face went from a huge, stupid smile to an admittedly adorable pout.

"Ryuuzaki, what are _you_ doing here? You said you didn't need to watch Light anymore!"

L, in a perfect caricature of himself, put his thumb to his lips and tilted his head, slouching over to a couch and curling up upon it. He wiggled his toes in a way that only _I_ knew was mockingly.

"For the most part, Light-kun is cleared of suspicion. As I still suspect him, however infinitesimally, and still suspect _you_ of being the _second_ Kira, it would be illogical of me to not personally monitor this meeting."

She inched closer to him, kneeling down in front of him where he sat, and put on her best puppy eyes. She snuggled right up to him. "Ryuuzaki, _please_? _Pretty_ please? Give Light and me some time alone?"

Ryuuzaki watched dispassionately as my girlfriend displayed herself in an attempt to fluster him into submission.

She shouldn't have bothered. Even if Ryuuzaki liked girls (which I suspected he didn't- actually, I was pretty sure he just liked _me_), he'd had _me_ and seen all of _me_. Misa, while Japan's top model, simply can't compete. Yes, I do know that I'm a vain bastard, but it's also true.

Regardless, Ryuuzaki was just about as affected by Misa's attentions as I was.

Poor Misa. I couldn't help but pity her. And now that Misa herself couldn't kill me, Rem was dead, and I no longer needed her eyes, there was really no point in continuing to date the girl of my nightmares.

When she realized the adventure with the world's three greatest detectives was fruitless, she glued herself right back onto me. She rubbed on me like a cat in heat- it was repulsive. Ryuuzaki would never do that.

She whisked me onto the couch opposite Ryuuzaki, plopped down on my lap, and proceeded to suck my face off.

I wanted to vomit. I'd always been into manipulating people, sometimes even sleeping with them if it would get me what I wanted (which varied), but it had been a relatively long time, now, since I'd had to do anything with anyone I didn't want to. It had all been for and with Ryuuzaki...

So, anyway, I had forgotten how awful it was to kiss someone who nauseated you.

I reigned in the puke, however, and kissed her back, making my mind go blank. Her end was enthusiastic, and I was good enough to pretend that I was into it, but it made me immeasurably sad that she couldn't _tell_ that I didn't love her.

I knew for fact that she'd gotten around before me, but apparently they hadn't loved her, either. Once you've tasted it, you know when it's there and when it's not.

So she was just like me. Before I had Ryuuzaki. With so many people, but never feeling a thing. Interesting- we'd both been Kira.

What loneliness _does_ to people.

It was worse for her, though. She'd found the one she loves- me- but he- I- didn't love her. I'd been lucky; when _I_ fell in love it ended up requited.

And damn, so much had changed since I'd last held her, and she didn't even know that anything was different. She didn't know that anything was wrong, let alone that I'd fallen in love, killed someone with my own hands, remembered I was Kira (and the thousands I had killed _not_ with my hands), met my lover's "family," and then gone to their funerals. And here she stood, loving me, without a clue.

Misa peeled herself off and I took the moment to glance at Ryuuzaki. I asked him with my eyes, _Should I tell her?_

He didn't answer immediately, so for a moment I didn't think he'd understood.

Finally, he shook his head, slowly. _Not yet_.

Maybe he had a plan, then. I certainly didn't.

I halfheartedly scooped Misa up then spun her around, re-depositing her on the couch. "Told you I'd sweep you off your feet," I whispered into her neck.

She just giggled in response, climbing into my lap again. It was only then that I noticed that she was wearing nothing but black & red panties and a lacy bra.

Poor girl. Her own _boyfriend _didn't notice when she was mostly naked.

Maybe someday she'd love someone who loved _her_.

_What if Rem was the only one who would ever love her?_ I wondered.

Best not to think about it.

The next hour passed slowly, mind-numbing except for brief flashes of pity for Misa and random waves of adoration in the general direction of L, who looked brain-dead because of the drivel which passed as conversation.

"Light-kun," he finally said. "I am sorry to cut your date short, but I require your assistance on the case we began yesterday."

I didn't catch the double-meaning (double entendre?) right away, but when I did, it was very hard to pretend to be unenthusiastic.

"Must we, Ryuuzaki? We got here like, what, half an hour ago?"

"An hour, Light-kun. And I was being generous with _that_," he said 'coldly.'

I sighed. "Fine."

We ignored Misa's emphatic protests and exited as quickly as possible.

A frill caught in the door as we closed it practically in her face.

We took off running, and once we were out of earshot, we burst out laughing. It was such a good sound that we laughed harder and I grabbed him by the shirt, kissing him, stumbling back to our room with him.

We kissed passionately, holding each other's faces and pressing close together, each touching his lips and teeth to the other's smile. My heart burned with feeling for him, with desire and, primarily, _love_. He fit exactly in my arms as Misa never would, and I fit right into his. His _body_ was right- firm, cool, and too skinny. His _hair_ was right- soft, natural. His _lips_ were right- pale, thin. His _fingers_ were right- long, spindly, gentle, strong. His _eyes_ were right- dark, endless, more beautiful than anything I had ever seen. His _voice_ was right- deep, smooth, breathy from kissing me.

_He_ was right. Ryuuzaki was right.

And I knew from the way he looked at me with those eyes and the way he touched me with those fingers that I was exactly right for him, too.

For the first time, _I_ was right, just as much for all my terrible qualities as for my good ones. To fit him exactly, I had to be exactly who I was, including all the things that _weren't_ what people normally wanted me for. Arrogance, OCD, self-absorption, stubbornness, melodrama, manipulation, violence...

Among other things.

And I needed _him_ to be just as _he_ was; all _his_ terrible qualities as well. Coldness, indifference, obsession, awkwardness, arrogance, stubbornness, violence. Many of which we shared.

He _had_ to be like that. And _I_ had to be like this. And because we both were, and we both needed _exactly_ the other, we fit precisely as neither of us could ever fit with anyone else.

He transitioned naturally and easily into dominance, perhaps because of what he'd had to watch me do with Misa. We were familiar with each other by now, and it was so easy, so simple. We found rhythm instantly, found each other's hands, and at the height of our orgasms, he bit into my collar bone, hard, marking me, and I heard him mutter, "Mine."

I couldn't disagree- _"and no one else's"_ -and then the world burst into color and lights and fireworks and breath and Ryuuzaki and Light.

And despite death, despite Hell, despite Misa, and despite Kira, life was beautiful.

* * *

**"Every time our eyes meet, this feeling inside me is almost more than I can take.**

**And baby, when you touch me, I can feel how much you love me and it just blows me away.**

**I've never been this close to anyone or anything.**

**I can hear your thoughts; I can see your dreams.**

**I don't know how you do what you do, I'm so in love with you.  
**

**It just keeps getting better.**

**I wanna spend the rest of my life with you by my side, forever and ever.**

**Every little thing that you do... baby, I'm amazed by you.**

**The smell of your skin, the taste of your kiss, the way you whisper in the dark.**

**Your hair all around me, baby, you surround me.  
**

**You touch every place in my heart."**

**-Amazed, Lonestar**


	33. Amoeba Paper

**Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note. **

* * *

It happened again that night when we went to bed. Same symptoms, same order, same unbearable pain, except I didn't pass out this time, oh no- I got to be awake for every moment of it.

Crying, whimpering, pathetic, reduced to a trembling heap. I didn't want him to see, but I needed him there or I'd probably die.

He didn't try to make me go to the hospital, which was good because there was no way I could have moved without vomiting. My own uncontrollable muscle spasms were making me ill, which didn't seem fair to me, but neither did withdrawal without any kind of drugs. I got the consequences without even the reputedly fun part.

Not that I was coherent enough at the moment to consider the anthropomorphic morality of the pain I was enduring. My skin was crawling itself apart, my skull was cracking, my whole torso was cramping so badly that I didn't even _choose_ to curl up, I just did. I was squeezing my head until my knuckles turned white, just trying to keep it in several fused plates like it was supposed to be. Every inch of my body either ached or screamed, and I would have done anything short of hurting Ryuuzaki to make it stop.

The man in question just held me, saying nothing really but whispering comforting things as my body rebelled and tried to take me with it. Yes, I needed him there. I couldn't imagine trying to survive this without him. Without him as the reminder of why I hadn't just offed myself by now.

"Light-kun," he said at a pause in my tremors.

"Y-Yeah?" I panted.

"I believe that the Death Note has another property that the Shinigami- probably purposely- neglected to mention."

A particularly aggressive spasm elbowed him in the gut. "Sorry. What property?"

I felt better, talking about the notebook. That thought disturbed me, and as he spoke I realized exactly what he was going to say before the words left his mouth.

"I believe that it may have the same effects as addiction," he answered calmly.

I agreed, but I wanted to hear the reason. "Why?" I challenged.

"You are having very violent withdrawal symptoms," he said. "Above normal, which leads me to suspect a connection to the supernatural notebook. As of yet, it has only happened at night, which seems appropriate for something like a Death Note."

"But I've gone this long without using it, and nothing like this ever happened."

I gasped in pain as it felt like something stabbed me in the guts. He held me tighter.

"Yes. But, as Kira, you were always touching it, around it, thinking about it. And when you gave up your memories of it, your mind and body didn't _know_ to be addicted. This is the first time you have ever... rejected it."

It made sense. Too much sense. My guts gave a little stab of agreement, and I knew he was, as usual, right.

"The first time I picked it up- I found it on a lawn outside my high school- I put it back down. I walked away from it," I said quietly. If only I hadn't gone back. Misa wouldn't have come to me, Rem wouldn't have killed Watari, who wouldn't have been working on the case. Kira wouldn't have... _I_ wouldn't have... killed B in jail, and C wouldn't have lost it and killed Mello and Near, and Matt would still be able to smile, and L would still have his "family." Whole. Intact. L and I might still have met. And if we did, even without the handcuffs we would inevitably have fallen in love. All this. All this.

I was afraid that if I didn't ask now...

"Ryuuzaki, would you tell me about your parents?"

He didn't answer right away. When he did, his voice was a perfect monotone. Emotionless.

My body hurt. Every pore of it.

"My mother was an engineer. My father was a painter. They were opposites, and loved each other. My father lost his mind- slowly, my mother thought it was a creative phase- and then raped and killed her. He shot himself. I was four. Then I went to Wammy's. That's all."

"Okay."

I tried, ignoring my body, to decide if that explained anything, but I couldn't. Either he was too logical to be scarred by that, or he _became_ that logical _because_ he was scarred by that.

"And yes, Light, I have always been this way. My personality has absolutely nothing to do with what I witnessed as a child."

I smiled to myself. Read my mind.

"So," he said, firmly changing the subject, "Elaborate on what you think about my theory."

"I think you're right."

"For what reason?"

"It makes sense. And I never _didn't want _the Death Note. Until, you know. You."

"And do you want it now? At this moment?"

_Yes_, I thought instantly. But it was the 'yes' of an addict, not _me_. Cognitively, I didn't want to be near it. I was afraid I'd use it. I didn't _want_ to... I didn't _want_ to be Kira... I didn't want to _have been _Kira...

But I was.

"Yes. No," I answered. "Instinctively, yes. And no, because I don't want to be near the things I did. Kira wants it. Light doesn't."

Shit. I had just contradicted myself. As I had told him that Ryuuzaki and L were the same, I had just claimed that Light and Kira were not.

He read my mind again.

"Then Ryuuzaki and L must be separate. Because Light and Kira are not the same." He raised a hand to my sweaty hair and ran his cool fingers through it. It felt incredible.

What had I done to him? L and Ryuuzaki were the same, and Light and Kira were the same, and he knew it as well as my conscience did. That wasn't logical. That...

No. I'd had enough of analyzing the hell out of everything, just as I'd had enough of crying. I forced my brain to turn off, at least for the moment. He knew perfectly well what he had said and what it had meant, and he'd decided it anyway. Period. End of rant.

I never responded to that.

The night passed with agonizing slowness, almost as if to taunt me.

* * *

The moment the sun began to rise, I felt perfectly fine. Completely normal.

And inspired.

"We should go to the funeral," I informed him.

He looked at me, blankly skeptical. "What makes you believe that you are in any condition to go when you spend every night in violent reverse peristalsis?"

"I have a plan." I took my watch off the end table and handed it to him. He looked at it, puzzled.

"Pull it three times in less than a second," I instructed him. "I remembered it just now."

He frowned, but did so. The secret compartment slid open, revealing the pin and the piece of notebook paper.

His eyes went wide. Naturally, he had already deduced what it must be. I said it anyway. "That's a piece of the notebook. Any torn out page or fragment of paper works the same way as the rest of the notebook does. And you can write in anything you want. Cosmetics, blood..."

He gingerly removed the pin with two fingers, staring at it and examining it from multiple angles, craning his neck around instead of moving the pin. My heart swelled.

"I didn't hide any more pieces, and Misa doesn't have any."

"Light, if you are implying that I destroy the notebooks, I am hesitant. I am afraid that it might in fact cause your death."

"Right. But my point." I gestured to what he held. "Tear off a piece that's so small that it would be impossible to write anything on it. Miniscule. Like the size of the head of the pin."

Now he understood me. Delicately, he used the pin to scrape a corner off of the excerpt. He handed it to me, knowing my plan already.

I held the tiny shred of paper. An _amoeba_ would have struggled to write on it. It was perfect.

"Look. Now I'm in contact with the Death Note. Think of it as a nicotine patch, if we're staying with the addiction theme. But it's too small for me to write on, no matter how hard I try."

He nodded. "Yes."

"So no more withdrawal. No more midnight vomiting. And a trip with your perfectly functional boyfriend to Winchester."

Okay, hadn't meant to use that word.

He smiled a little. "A strange term," he murmured. Then, business again, "Are you sure this will work?"

"98 percent," I assured him. "There's no reason it shouldn't. And I really want you to go to that funeral. I think you'll end up regretting it if you don't."

He nodded. "I shall make the reservations. And I will also destroy these fragments of paper."

"Burning them is your best bet," I told him.

He nodded again, and left me alone.

I dropped down onto the bed, exhausted from a sleepless night. I shook my head to clear it, and began to pack for the both of us.

* * *

**"Teach me wrong from right, and I'll show you what I can be.**

**Say it for me, say it to me, and I'll leave this life behind me.  
**

**Say it if it's worth saving me.****"**

**-Savin' Me, Nickelback**


	34. Video Games and Funeral Pyres

**Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note or Super Mario Smash Brothers Melee. I also do not condone underage drinking.**

* * *

Wammy's House was silent as the grave.

...I've really got to start watching my word choice.

I held L's hand tight, and the tightness of his own grip was the only indication that he wasn't as neutral on the inside as he was on the outside. No one looked at us twice, seemingly unsurprised and definitely indifferent.

Matt attached himself to us the moment we saw each other. He seemed better, but not like he'd ever be _good_ again. He was fine. _Just_ fine.

My fault, my fault, my fault.

"Hello, Matt," L said pleasantly.

The boy smiled. Or, at least, his lips did. "Hey. So how'd it happen?"

He meant Watari, I knew. My brain froze up; I couldn't have answered if I'd tried. How could I explain to this kid that it was a (lesbian?) Shinigami, using a murder notebook, because Watari had gone against orders and kept researching the case, putting Misa in danger?

Of course, L could. "He had a heart attack," he supplied easily. Why hadn't it occurred to me to just say _that_? "We don't know if it was Kira or his old age," he continued. "Kira seems to have stopped his killings, or is at least on hiatus, so we suspect natural causes."

Matt nodded, then frowned. "Kira stopped killing?"

I don't think L saw it, but Matt glanced at me, then our lack of handcuffs, then our hands. The entire motion was quicker than a blink, and then he was looking L dead in the eye.

"Yes, he has," L replied.

They were communicating somehow. I didn't know exactly what they were saying, or how, but after only a few seconds Matt looked satisfied. He nodded.

"Do you guys want to play some games? We have a whole day to kill."

We all pretended he hadn't just used the word 'kill.' Did he know, now, that I was Kira? Had that been one of the things L had just told him? It seemed unlikely- one would think he'd be afraid that Matt would kill me. It would be a logical reaction. _I_ would kill Kira if he was someone else and I met him.

Ryuuzaki looked at me and my heart rate picked up a little bit. "Shall we?" he asked.

I smiled. "Sure."

"You two can team up against me," Matt said, gesturing for us to follow him, which we did.

"I'm not bad at video games," I said. "That doesn't seem fair."

Matt just smiled. It would have been laughter but his laugh had died with the blond tsunami. That smile made me nervous.

As it turns out, rightfully so.

We followed him to the room he had shared with Mello. Only one bed was made, and the one that wasn't was Mello's. Tears instantly prickled at the back of my eyes: Matt had been sleeping in Mello's bed. L noticed this too, and we purposely didn't look at each other.

Whenever I froze up, Ryuuzaki could answer. Whenever he blanked, I could talk. It was just one of the things that made us work so well. The silence needed to be broken, and it was my turn to be coherent. "So, what game?" I asked cheerfully, trying to break the awkward that Matt seemed immune to.

"Melee?"

"...Excuse me?"

He held up the case, and I recognized the design. I hadn't known the English word 'melee.' "Super Mario Smash Brothers Melee," I clarified.

"Yup." He popped it in and tossed a controller to L and to me. I caught mine, but L fumbled and dropped his. You just shouldn't throw things at someone like him; his mad tennis skills do not extend to everyday life.

I laughed at him and handed up the controller. He gazed at the ceiling innocently, as if he had not just dropped something. I couldn't help but peck him on the cheek as I sat down on the floor near the TV.

An unreadable expression crossed Matt's features before he turned away. He fired up the game, giving a rundown of the controls for Ryuuzaki's benefit.

I felt like an idiot for kissing Ryuuzaki (who was listening to Matt's rapid-fire listing of controls, and, I could tell, memorizing them instantly) in front of Matt, but I tried to focus on the game to forget about it. It was too late to take it back, and I _definitely_ needed more things to feel guilty about.

With very little apparent effort, Matt had both of us KO'd in two minutes flat. In ten minutes, he had beaten us seven times.

"You... are fucking incredible..." I said admiringly as Link went flying off the stage for the eighth time.

"It's true," he agreed with a smug grin.

L and I did manage to get him to thirty percent damage. Seeing as the max is 999, that really wasn't saying much.

L eventually dropped his controller, putting both hands in the air.

"I surrender."

"And I capitulate," I agreed, glancing at L.

I looked at the clock. Somehow it was already ten o'clock.

Matt followed my gaze. When he saw the time, his face brightened. "Let's get wasted!" he declared cheerfully.

L frowned. "You are fifteen."

"And you were a virgin until you were twenty-five," he replied mildly. "To each his own."

"I fail to see how that is related," L said tersely.

Matt rolled his eyes and plunged his hand under his bed, withdrawing a three-quarters full bottle (or one-quarter empty bottle, if you're a pessimist) of vodka and a stack of Dixie cups.

"Matt!" L cried, appalled.

He shrugged. "I wasn't gonna use the brain cells anyway."

"But still, Matt..."

"Mello, Watari, and Near are dead," he said simply.

It would have been a classic movie moment if L ever watched movies. Besides Texas Chainsaw Massacre. Without a word, he held out a hand and Matt filled a cup.

And here I was faced with a dilemma.

Now. My father was obsessed with law. I was eighteen. Eighteen was not the legal drinking age in Japan, but it _was_ in England. I was currently in England.

Whatever. What my dad didn't know wouldn't hurt him.

So when Matt handed me my cup, I took it without hesitation and drained it with Ryuuzaki and Matt in a toast.

* * *

As Matt had suggested, we did indeed get shitfaced. It took significantly more for Matt than it did for Ryuuzaki, and a lot more for Ryuuzaki than it did for me. I stopped before I threw up, but Matt didn't. Well, he had lost more.

Through a drunken blur, I watched Ryuuzaki watch Matt warily, sadly. The kid, between vomit runs, went through emotions like Sybil went through personalities. ...Wow, that was a really heartless comparison. Anyway, Ryuuzaki turned out to be a calm, quiet drunk, no surprise. And I apparently lost all control of my mouth, although my thoughts appeared to be somewhat stable. Actually, that was worse, because I was perfectly aware of the fact that I was making a fool and an ass out of myself, but entirely unable to stop it.

Had a single person in the room been sober, it would have been humiliating. But L was so chill that I probably could have killed Matt with the Death Note and he'd have blinked and said "oh, okay." And Matt was so emotional that he didn't have time to pay attention to anything I said. He probably wouldn't remember any of it in the morning, anyway.

I was not drunk enough to reveal that I had been and was Kira. Not enough booze in the _world_. My giraffe-nightmare though? Not so much. When I told the story, L laughed lightly and Matt burst into tears. (_'I am _so sorry_, man. I'm so sorry you have to go through that...'_)

Try as Ryuuzaki and I might, we couldn't broach the subject of Mello. _Watari_, however...

"Yeah, 'is name was Quillsh Wammy," Matt slurred.

L added to me, "That's why I got so mad at Roger when he said 'Quillsh.' I was afraid you'd figure out that the, uh, that the name of the orphanage is his last name."

"Oh! Roger," Matt said. "He's-" he hiccupped, "-been a wreck. Cried harder'an he did fer Mello an' Near. Put _together_." He nodded knowingly, then looked at L to elaborate.

"Yes, they were friends," Ryuuzaki agreed. "Quillsh told me they grew up together. Always been friends. I think they were, um, raised in an orphanage as well."

I tried not to say it, but my vodka-soaked brain sent the command despite me. "Kinda like you and Mello," I said solemnly.

Matt thankfully took that as a philosophical statement. He didn't burst into tears or attack me, for which I was grateful.

"I dunno, were they lovers? L?"

"Not as far as I know," he replied.

"Not _everyone _here can be gay," I declared. "B, C, Dane, Mello, and the three of us. Not that I live here. But I mean, what are the odds of that, already?"

Ryuuzaki opened his mouth to _tell_ me the odds, but Matt interrupted. "Don't forget Near," he added. "I think. I dunno."

And, as it will at a high school lunch table or in a room full of drunken people, the conversation continued much like that.

L and I left Matt's room at about two in the morning, far from being able to walk in a collective straight line. What followed in our _own_ room was highly predictable.

It was pretty much the same, except we were drunk. Apparently he liked bottom when intoxicated, but that was fine with me. The only thing that was notably different was that this time, the whole event held some kind of desperation, guilt, and thankfulness.

Because we'd left when Matt passed out on Mello's bed. And he'd looked so sad, so small, so alone. In his sleep, he'd rolled over and ended up with his nose in the pillow. And he had smiled when he inhaled, and then mumbled, _'Mello.'_

Although I managed not to say it out loud, as we tried to push ourselves into one creature so we'd never be separated, I was desperate not to lose him, guilty that I was glad it was Mello instead of him, and, more than those, thankful, because the one I loved was alive and I didn't have to try to function without him.

He whispered something as we came, and I knew he was thinking the same things.

The next day came much, much too early. However, the piece of Death Note had worked. I had taped it to my hip with medical tape before we'd gotten on the plane. That night, besides drunk, I felt fine.

Ryuuzaki and I, hung over and sad, dressed and made our way downstairs.

It looked just like the funeral for Near and Mello had looked, except there were more adults crowding around the tables than there were before. And as last time there had been a sense of numb shock, now there was a sense of just plain melancholy.

Only the very little kids didn't look like they cared- they probably hadn't met him. But for the older kids, he was their father or grandfather figure. The adults, probably friends and not family if Quillsh had in fact grown up in an orphanage, looked devastated as well.

That was, of course, not including Roger.

Roger was beyond that. When Mello had died, Matt had been blank, dead himself. Roger was the opposite- his eyes were red and swollen, and he slumped in his seat, not even picking at the plate in front of him. He looked lost and entirely pathetic.

It made sense. They were old. They may have known each other for seventy years. It wasn't improbable.

I sighed and followed Ryuuzaki to the food. He poured several cups of coffee and took the whole bowl of sugar cubes, leaving three behind on the saucer as an afterthought. There was cake again, which he collected.

I got oatmeal, treating myself to a touch of maple syrup in it. And about twelve cups of coffee. No hair of the dog- we had finished the bottle the night before.

Heads throbbing, we took the same seats we had taken last time.

* * *

When breakfast was over, everyone put on coats and went out to brave the cold.

Another pyre. Another set of people bringing out a coffin, this one reading "Quillsh Wammy." Again, Igloo leaving his igloo for as long as he could stand it and then running right back to it to mourn alone.

The fire was hot on my skin- I could feel it crisping my flesh. From somewhere to my left, I heard a sob, probably belonging to Roger.

Ryuuzaki didn't want to stay the whole time, so we went in. He wanted, quote, "to go home."

After having him tell me where that was, I immediately booked a flight for three hours from that very moment.

Japan.

* * *

**"Your subtleties, they strangle me... I can't explain myself at all.**

**And all that wants, and all that needs, all I don't want to need at all.**

**The walls start breathing, my mind's unweaving... Maybe it's best you leave me alone.**

**A weight is lifted on this evening.**

**I give the final blow."**

**-It Ends Tonight, All-American Rejects**

* * *

**A/N: Again, I don't drink (yeah, good plan, let's make Dlvvanzor MORE unstable) or support excessive/underage drinking.**


	35. Sayu the Yaoi Fangirl

**Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note.**

**A/N: Yes, this **_**seems **_**like a pointless 'meet the parents' deal, but it leads to other plot events. ****Something****has to be happening when stuff happens, lol.**

* * *

I was getting some serious jetlag from traveling what felt like every few minutes, but I was incapable of turning Ryuuzaki down- I knew he wouldn't go these places without me, so I didn't have the heart to say no. If possible, we were becoming even more attached at the hip than when we were _actually_ attached. Of course, we hadn't been handcuffed at the hip, but my analogy stands.

So, when he told me he wanted to meet my family, I could quite easily stare at him in horror, but I couldn't actually give him an outright 'no.'

"But... you... didn't you have cameras everywhere in our house for a while? You already know everything you need to know..."

"I have not met your mother or your sister. I admit I am inexperienced in these matters, but is it not customary?" he said innocently.

"Bastard," I muttered. Because it was. Of course.

"I would very much like to go. Unless Light is embarrassed of me, in which case I would understand." He blinked large, hopeful eyes at me.

"You already knew I was about to agree," I sighed. "You didn't have to try to guilt me into it."

"Good," he said approvingly. "I will drive."

* * *

I doubted that anyone in recorded history had ever had as many near-death experiences in the course of a twenty-minute drive as I did, but records were made to be broken. As I was deciding how best to contact Guinness Book of World Records (letter or email?), the terrifying and/or amazing driver called my name.

"Yeah?"

"Are you prepared for an uncomfortable question?"

"You had no trouble asking me a million times if I was Kira," I pointed out.

"I will take that as consent," he warned me. "If your mother happens to ask... how may I present myself... in relation to you?"

"Oh! Um..." We listened to the road noise for a while as I tried to come up with an answer. Would my mother freak out if I called him my boyfriend? My lover? My, what, my partner? Didn't that imply permanence? Would 'friend' be safer, and let her figure it out? And what about my fujoshi sister?

"I think," I said slowly, "that you can say whatever you want. "Whatever we tell my mom, she'll have to figure it out eventually."

He didn't look at me. "What would you prefer me to say?"

Was The Great and Powerful L seriously asking me what we were?

"Ryuuzaki, there's no _word_ for what you are to me," I replied, only half joking. If _ours_ wasn't a complicated relationship, I didn't know what was.

"Do your best," he commanded.

"You already _know_ what you want, but you're trying to get _me_ to say it first. Just call us whatever you damn well please," I protested. "I'll agree, and no one will have to know that even _we _are confused about it."

I was watching him now. I had challenged him and he knew it, but it was also true. In my brain, Ryuuzaki being 'Ryuuzaki' was a full enough description; I had _always _felt strongly about this person, starting with deep, black hate.

"I am not opposed to the idea of being with you perpetually," he suggested, as if he hadn't just run that sentence at least fourteen times in his head which, for L, was like writing a dissertation on the subject.

That took a moment to sink in. I mean, I understood the words instantly, of course, but then there was a beat. And then I began to freak out. Inside.

_Light Yagami, do you take L to be your..._

Because I had never actually stopped to wonder, 'How long?' I had never gotten past the present. I assumed that it was only a matter of time until I was caught and brutally executed, despite whatever L did to try to stop it from happening, because I was Kira, and Kira didn't deserve to live happily ever after, no matter what Ryuuzaki might say.

But if it _was_ possible... if he _wanted_ me forever, as I somehow understood that I'd always want _him, _and if I wasn't going to be dead in the next twenty minutes, then yes.

_I do_.

"Well, then I guess you should say we're partners, then," I said casually.

As easily as I could see through his 'innocent' expression, he could see through my 'casual' expression and knew that I was dead serious.

"I think it would go over better than 'the one who sodomizes your son,'" I added.

He chuckled as we pulled into my driveway. "I imagine so."

The truth was this: I was pretty sure it was going to be awkward no matter what.

But my mother flung open the doors and ushered us in, tittering away about whatever benign thing was on her mind at the moment and about how good it was to see me. Had we not been in Japan, she would have hugged us both to death. I could smell warm cookies, however, which for L was _better _than a hug, and I suspected that my father had something to do with that. L could smell them, too- I knew by the way he kept staring in the direction of the kitchen. My mother left us alone to go tend to them.

Sayu came bounding down the stairs. "Misa?" she called as she turned the corner. Then she saw L, who may in fact be the polar opposite of Misa, and smiled at the stranger. "Hello! When Mom said Light was bringing a friend, I just assumed she meant _that_ kind of friend." She laughed. "Hi! It's nice to meetcha!"

"Ryuuzaki, this is my little sister Sayu. Sayu, this is my p-partner Ryuuzaki."

I felt sick. I really wished my little sister didn't have to know, like, right off the bat.

Her reaction shouldn't have been surprising. She squealed like the fangirl she was and launched herself at L. "Seriously? Ohmigosh! I'm so excited! This is so great! I have a gay big brother!" she enthused, bouncing around us.

L, graceful as ever, patted her awkwardly on the back. I shrugged at him, and he mouthed, '_It could have been worse,' _which was very true.

My mother heard the commotion and returned, holding a tray of steaming cookies with oven mitts and looking a little bit frantic. "Sayu? What's all the fuss about? Is everyone okay?"

"Light's gay, mom!" Sayu announced elatedly.

"What?" Mom said, trying to keep up.

"Mom! Light's gay and this is his lover and he brought him here to meet us and his name's Ryuuzaki and he's so interesting-looking and doesn't Light look happier than normal and they're _so cute_ together!"

L's eyes did not leave the cookies.

"You can take one," I told him.

He looked at my mother as if she were an angel come directly from Heaven, which he didn't believe in. That someone other than Watari could actually _make_ cookies... in their own _home_...

"Soichiro said you're fond of sweets," she said hesitantly, confused by the intensity of his concentration and by the look of love now on his face. "Actually, what he said is, 'He doesn't eat anything but sweets,' but I assume he's exaggerating."

"You'd think so," I agreed, and took a slightly-too-hot cookie, handing it to L. "He's the opposite of me in almost every way, so as much as I _don't_ eat sweets, he _does_."

He took a bite out of it almost reverently. My mother liked this; a small, fond smile was tugging at the corners of her lips. I leaned in and whispered to her, "His mother died when he was four, you know. He's doesn't remember anything like this."

My mother instantly adored him. "Ryuuzaki, is it? Come with me. You cannot _possibly_ continue to eat those without milk. And this is the second batch- there's more where they came from."

He followed her like a baby duck (baby panda?) follows its mother, his eyes huge, the cookie still in his mouth, the incarnation of 'nom.'

I rolled my eyes at Sayu, pushed her by her forehead, and went to join them.

The evening proceeded in much the same way. My father came home for dinner, and that wasn't so bad because he already knew everything. We always used to eat in silence. Now, for whatever reason, we were talking, laughing, and shouting.

"So," my mom asked at a comfortable lull in the conversation, "How did you two meet?"

My father kept his mouth shut, and Ryuuzaki and I glanced at each other. With our eyes, we agreed to make something up.

"Well, it was at the coffee shop close to my school," I said. "I had planned to play tennis after some coffee, so I had my racket. Ryuuzaki was a part-time waiter there to help pay for school, and when he saw the racket he challenged me."

"Light-kun cannot resist a challenge," Ryuuzaki said seriously, adding the '-kun' for what I assumed was politeness' sake.

"So he ditched work and I ditched my coffee, and we went to play."

"I didn't even know it was a date," he said monotonously, eyes wide and unblinking as he took a sip of milk. "In addition, I was fired the next day. I believe it was worth it, however; there is a surplus of minimum-wage employment opportunities, but I have yet to come across anyone at all similar to Light Yagami."

My sister stifled a squeak and my mother looked charmed. My father merely looked impressed at the smoothness of our joint lie. And there was a little bit of truth in there. I mean... we'd played tennis... and there was a coffee shop...

"So are you in looooove?" my sister teased.

"Yes," Ryuuzaki answered bluntly.

I think I turned red, but I would need a mirror to know for sure.

If it was possible, Sayu's grin got even wider. I wanted to tell her that her face would stay that way, but I was still too busy being embarrassed to form an actual sentence. I caught my parents glancing at each other, speaking in some code that only the two of them knew.

The conversation was pleasant for the rest of the night.

It didn't end until a little after midnight, which was not too late for L (or, inherently, me), but according to my mother _was_ too late to go home. She insisted that we spend the night, and Ryuuzaki, who now all but worshipped the woman, accepted the offer.

I had been in Ryuuzaki's childhood room, and now he was in mine. Not only was he in my room, he was sitting on my bed, talking approvingly about my mother. I had been right: he adored her as much as she adored him. Mutual adoration. Adoration is a good word.

Ryuuzaki, on my bed. It was strange to see him in this room I knew so well. I was used to seeing him in _his_ domain, but this was absolutely mine. He sat where handfuls of people had sat before, here _this_ late only if I had snuck them in. For whatever reason, though, it was different just because it was him.

He looked around, interested. He'd seen the room through the cameras, of course, but it must have looked different in real life.

"Your pornography," he said matter-of-factly. "You keep it in your bookshelf, if I recall. I understand that you purchased it as a means of hiding your true actions as Kira, but is it not more conventional to hide it under one's mattress?"

Right. That's why he looked different, sitting there. Because he _was_ different.

"Uh, well, that was part of the plan. I figured someone like me, assuming I actually cared to hide it, would have a slightly more creative place to do it than under the mattress." I told him about the Death Note fire-drawer, and the 'key,' and the fake bottom. He was thoroughly impressed.

"I told your father, 'when I was his age, I did strange things, too.' He looked at me as if I didn't think I did strange things _now_, and as if I were completely mad for thinking it."

I laughed, picturing my father's expression. "You should have gotten a picture," I said solemnly. "Maybe he'll make the same face if you say it again. I'd really like to see that."

He laughed, then laid down on my bed exactly as I usually did unless sleeping- my arms behind my head, my feet on the floor, my knees bend over the edge. "I see," he said interestedly. He sat up, looked around some more.

"Where were you when you first saw the Shinigami?"

Then it hit me. Something that I didn't realize had been poking at the back of my mind since I'd gotten my memories back.

Where was Ryuk?

"I was..." I pointed. "There. Ryuuzaki, where's Ryuk?"

"I do not know."

"The Death Note originally comes from a Shinigami. For a human to have it, the Shinigami must drop it in the human world, and the human must pick it up. I... it was complicated, but basically I switched which Shinigami would go with which Death Note, renounced ownership of _one_ of them, the one Ryuk would be attached to, and then buried it without touching it. So, the next person who touched it should have become the owner, and Ryuk should have possessed him. I dug it up and touched it, so I should be the owner right now... and Ryuk should be following me around. But where is he?"

I frowned. L, not nearly as intimate with every subtle nuance of the murder notebook as I was, just watched me.

"Ryuk thinks I'm interesting, so he would have come down right away. The only way it's possible is if I'm _not_ the owner. And the only way _that_ could happen..."

If my hair had all turned white in that moment, I wouldn't have been even remotely surprised.

"...is if someone else touched it first, got the explanation, and then decided to rebury it _without_ revoking ownership."

* * *

**"I'm not a perfect person- there's many things I wish I didn't do.  
**

**But I continue learning; I never meant to do those things to you,  
**

**And so I have to say before I go, that I just want you to know...**

**I've found out a reason for me to change who I used to be.  
**

**A reason to start over new, and the reason is you."**

**-The Reason, Hoobastank**


	36. Infallible Logic

**Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note or Another Note. I do own C. **

* * *

But who could have done it? Who could have remained calm enough to rebury it, not revoking ownership? Because if they had buried it out of fear, they _would_ have revoked ownership. Who wants to remember something like the Death Note unless they plan to use it?

So, understanding that they would have a Shinigami following them around, they had put it back where they found it.

I hadn't noticed any difference in the physical notebook, and I was sure I would have known immediately, although I didn't know how or _why _I would know anything of the sort. They may have torn out pages. Ryuuzaki and I could check when we got back home. Or, back to the Investigation Building, because I guess _this_ was technically home.

Okay, so the person had to have a plan. What could their plan be?

Before I could know that, however, I had to know who had _made_ the plan. So really, the original question remained: who was capable of this?

L. Me.

However.

Hadn't I left a note to Misa with the notebook? I'd been sure that it was hidden well enough that it wouldn't be a problem. But the note hadn't been in the box, and the person who reburied it couldn't have been an idiot...

...which meant that they must have _wanted_ the owner to know that someone had taken it.

Which meant that he knew the notebook was related to Kira. Anyone with half a brain could make the connection between thousands of heart attack-related deaths and a notebook that kills people with heart attacks.

Who would want to team up with Kira? A Kira worshipper like Misa?

No. A mindless fan would have done exactly what Misa had done to get my attention. No, this person wanted something other than to bask in Kira's presence.

This person wanted... to blackmail Kira? Unlikely. He would have contacted me and told me he'd give the notebook to the police if I didn't do what he wanted. This person wanted...

...to get to L?

To hurt him or to help him, using me?

It just didn't make sense for them to want to _help_ L by using Kira. That seemed unnecessarily dangerous, especially when L had an email account. (One of many, and with a million levels of security) that the average person could access when they thought they had a lead or a case or an idea. (It got hundreds of emails a day, only a few of which were not nonsense. Luckily, L didn't sleep anyway and he read faster than anyone I'd ever known.) So the finder must have wanted to _hurt_ him.

Who knew enough about L to want to hurt him? Ryuuzaki must have hundreds of enemies in the criminal world (come to think of it, so did I), but he always worked behind the scenes. Most criminals didn't know for a fact that L was even involved.

So someone that knew L personally, but didn't know his name.

Well, I was pretty sure that no one knew his name, not even at Wammy's. So that didn't narrow it down at all. All the kids at Wammy's knew him, or at least _of_ him. Igloo. Matt. Roger. Watari. Linda. Dane. Near and Mello. No, none of those people would want to hurt him. I had seen with my own eyes the level of respect they held for him- even in jealousy, I didn't think that any House member, even the ones I hadn't met, would take it so far. And, well, it couldn't be Watari or Near or Mello for obvious reasons...

Wait.

My mind rejected the idea in horror.

Because... why couldn't it be? Why couldn't it be someone who was dead? Or, at least, someone who was _supposed_ dead?

Now, I trusted Ryuuzaki's word that Watari was dead, but it could have been a fake funeral. Even if it was, Watari wouldn't hurt L. I didn't know Near and Mello, though, so logically I had to consider the possibility. I had held a body that several people had claimed was Near. I was willing to assume that that really _was_ Near. Mello was certainly dead, as well; Matt wasn't faking that. And I _knew_ that C was dead. That one was not even debatable- you don't survive your brains leaving your body.

But.

Who was the one person that hated L more than C? Who'd C hate L _for_?

Calmly, coolly, I sat down next to Ryuuzaki on the bed. I turned his head and carefully kissed him. He tasted like chocolate chip cookies. He had probably eaten at least a dozen.

He smiled at me when I drew back, and I nearly decided to keep to myself what I sensed to be true.

But he looked at me with such trust- trust that never, _ever_ should have been there- and I knew I had to tell him.

"Ryuuzaki," I said slowly, taking hold of either side of his face.

"Light," he replied simply, sounding content.

"Did... you ever see the body?"

"Who's body, Light?" Worried now.

"Ryuuzaki."

"What?"

"Are you sure... did you see with your own eyes... are you _absolutely certain_... that B is dead?"

He looked back at me, and I watched him erase all emotion from his face as he had when he'd tackled me in the forest.

"Why," he asked, icy calm.

I explained my whole thought process, and his face remained blank.

"Your logic is infallible," he agreed.

We were quiet for a moment and then, "Shall we go to bed?" he suggested. His voice was perfectly cheerful, but he still had no expression.

"Uh. Yeah. Okay."

I didn't realize until that moment just how afraid L was of B. That he had probably, at least inwardly, celebrated when he was told that B was dead. This was probably his worst nightmare; not only was his demon quite probably not dead, but now his demon knew about the most dangerous weapon that ever had and ever would exist. And sure enough, when I wrapped my arms around him, he was shaking.

So was I, but I suspected it had nothing to do with B and a whole lot to do with the Death Note. My 'cure' seemed to be losing effect. Ryuuzaki hadn't destroyed the notebook I'd gotten in the woods- we'd run out of time, with this funeral. Maybe I could get a bigger piece. Or more tiny pieces.

Maybe talking about it would calm him down. I buried my face in his cool neck and kissed it, murmuring, "How would B have found it? Could he have followed me?"

"That is unlikely," he sighed. "B has an ability similar to what you have told me about the Shinigami eyes. Perhaps a Shinigami found that fact interesting and decided to contact him with its own Death Note. Perhaps the ability itself allowed him to find it."

"But Ryuuzaki, he reburied it exactly where he found it, which means he doesn't have it. And we know it's the real Death Note- not a fake- because it started up the withdrawal. He could have torn out several pages and hidden them."

"That is possible, but not B's style."

"I've gathered that his style is to hurt you, whatever that means."

"True."

"So, he may or may not have pages of the Death Note. C said he didn't know your name. I assume that B doesn't either?"

"Correct."

"Who does?"

"Living? Myself. Ever? My parents, family, all dead. No one else would remember. Watari, dead." By now, I was no long even surprised when he discussed death so calmly.

"Not Roger?"

"Not Roger."

I took a moment to imagine what that would be like, to have no one but myself know the words 'Light Yagami.' Also, what was his name? I didn't want to know, just in case I fell, but I was still curious. Was it something plain like Bob? I could see him as a Robert if I squinted.

"Where were you born?" I asked him out of the blue. "I mean, that, and what's your race?"

He blinked at me. "Light, you have a distinct habit of asking personal questions at pauses in the most serious and dismal of conversations."

I kind of did. Between this and asking about his family when I chose to... I shrugged. "I just end up thinking about you, then my mind wanders, then I get curious. I'm completely Japanese, by the way," I said to encourage him.

"I was born in England, but am only partially English. I am not certain, but I believe I am also French, Russian, and possibly slightly Japanese."

I smiled. "You _would_ be a strange mix."

He smiled a little too. "You find it appropriate?"

"Very."

He curled up, his head on my chest. He smelled so good... My eyelids were drooping. Damn bodily functions. I was falling asleep on him again. Well, not literally _on_ him this time, but I was falling asleep. The problem was I was warm, full, comfortable, in my own bed, and I had the one I loved in my arms. Horrified as I was by the thought of B, I was exhausted from the plane ride and being constantly with a man who apparently never actually ran out of energy. It must have been the sugar. He had bought practically every candy bar in the airport. And offered most of them to me at some point. It would be like me offering him oatmeal as I had so, so long ago. I still blame (thank) that cake.

My thoughts scattered and softened as I began to doze off, gaining that squishy quality and becoming strange enough to be called half-dreams.

_L was a lemur, and he was sitting on him, staring with those huge eyes, eyes that kept expanding until the lemur was nothing but one huge eye, seeing everything. He was drawn to it and appalled by it, and it spoke (somehow) with L's voice and Light, even in his dream, felt his heart rate increase. Then the eye was bleeding, screaming..._

I tightened my grip on L, not even remotely sure if I was doing it in real life or in the dream.

_Try to get him, B, _I dreamed and thought, fading faster and faster. _I won't let him go. You can't have him. _

And finally I was asleep.

* * *

**"Beautiful dawn - lights up the shore for me.  
**

**There is nothing else in the world I'd rather wake up and see with you.  
**

**Beautiful dawn - I'm just chasing time again.  
**

**Thought I was born to endless night, until you shined.**

**Will you be my shoulder when I'm grey and older?  
**

**Promise me tomorrow starts with you."**

**-High, James Blunt**

* * *

**A/N: Now, things will start to get very dark, very fast. Even more so. Thanks for reading!**


	37. Cheerios

**Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note, Cheerios, or Another Note. I do own C.**

**A/N: Shudder.**

* * *

I woke with a shout.

I had thought the stack-of-bodies dream was bad. I'd thought the dream about C cutting L open was bad.

This was worse.

It was L, tortured by B. I didn't even know what B really looked like, but my imagination filled it in for me with a monster, 8 feet tall and mammoth. I was watching what B had done to L to give him that scar on his back, but dramatized by my already over-effective imagination. C was with B, in the dream, laughing, looking significantly more sane than when I had met him but still "...off" as L had once described him. And L was sobbing, and I was handcuffed (those again?) to where I couldn't _quite_ reach him, but an inch away, and I knew that if I could touch his hand he would be okay, and I was stretching, stretching, dislocating my shoulder, _trying_...

I shook my head, hoping the dream would disappear as dreams do. It began to, and I encouraged it as one detail after another faded away.

I sat up in bed, rubbing my eyes. The first thing I noticed was 'cold.'

I hadn't been cold in bed for a long time, now. Ryuuzaki must have left for more of my mom's cookies. It was still dark- she probably wasn't awake yet. Oh well, he'd just rifle through our every cupboard and drawer until he eventually found them. Cute thought. How could a grown man be so _cute_? I smiled to myself, yawning, and blinked my surroundings into focus.

"...no."

Because it didn't take a genius, which I was, to know B when I saw him.

He was scarier than my nightmare had given him credit for, but not because he was large and barbaric-looking...

It was because he looked almost exactly like the one I loved.

If I didn't know Ryuuzaki so well, if my _heart_ didn't always recognize him before my mind even did, I would have thought it _was_ L. He stood like him, his hair was black and cut like his, he kept his face blank like Ryuuzaki did. But his eyes were as red as the blood that was- quite purposefully- splattered on his white shirt, which was identical to Ryuuzaki's.

"Light Yagami," he said simply.

A shudder ran down my spine at the sound of the man's voice. I tried not to cower, but I was almost certain I failed. L's fear of him was rubbing off on me, and for the first time I fully understood it. What must it be like to watch someone who might as well be your reflection doing horrible things? Horrible things that you've probably considered doing, but known you mustn't?

"Kira," he added as an afterthought. His voice was almost like Ryuuzaki's, too, deep and calm and controlled.

Hearing that voice- almost like L's but not exactly, with identical inflection but a slightly different timbre- saying that name allowed me, for some reason, to stand. I forced my inexplicably sore body into action and got to my feet, holding my head up with my best 'arrogant, scary, brilliant' face. He appeared unaffected.

"B," I replied. "It's nice to meet you. I've heard so much about you."

"All good, I hope," he sneered.

"Never," I answered politely.

His lips twisted, casting long shadows over his features in our shadowy surroundings, accentuating his lips, his eyes, his brow. His blood-red irises and too-large pupils practically glowing in the darkness.

I refused to be afraid of him. That feeling gnawing at the pit of my stomach? No, that wasn't fear. I turned it into hatred and used it to fuel me.

Now, wasn't _this_ an interesting situation. He had physically and mentally scarred the one I loved. _I_ had blown out the brains of the one _he_ loved. But did he know that?

Maybe. Maybe not. Wouldn't it be fun if he didn't? I took the initiative.

"So, B. How is C?" I asked, imitating Ryuuzaki's best Innocent Voice.

He froze, cocking his head just like the one he was a reflection of, and his lips twisted up further, casting an even more gruesome shadow on him. Madness. "You would know better than I," he whispered loudly. He spoke very quickly, almost manically. "You shot him to death. Right through his brain. He would have been pleased- his cranium. You know, I assume, how he felt about anything that started with a 'C.'"

"I've heard stories," I said airily. "I thought it was a little weird that he just started eating things he pulled out of his pocket. It must have had something to do with a C. What was that, anyway?"

"Cheerios."

"How appropriate. I'm sure he enjoyed your cum, too, especially in the middle of the cafeteria. If we're we staying with the 'C' theme. As I said, I've heard stories."

He grinned, now, and brought a thumb to his mouth. Just like L. "You kill my lover, and then insult us both. You are one particularly classy individual."

"You torment _mine_ and then _kidnap_ us both," I shot back.

"He did enjoy it, by the way. C, that is. In the cafeteria. On a related note, L most certainly did _not_ enjoy being cut dangerously close to his spine. With a scalpel. Watching his flesh part and curl; it was beautiful. Slowly, over-"

How juvenile. Using my own strategy back at me, each of us trying to fluster the other with information neither of us wanted about someone who meant more to us than anything. So I simply spoke over him.

"Before I forget," I interrupted, making my voice drip with as much sarcasm as I could cram into it, "How did you know it was _me_ who shot your lover? I mean, I got him really good- _right_ through the frontal bone and out the back. You should have _seen_ the blood. I had bits of his brain on me for _hours_. It clogged up my shower drain. I'm surprised you could even recognize his dead body."

He did not rise to my challenge. I could see the anger building and the madness rising, but, like L, he had infinite patience. Nearly. And it was that 'nearly' that I was going to tear to shreds.

"L would not have taken anyone else with him on such an excursion except for someone he considered to be his intellectual equal. In addition, he would only be able to _love_ someone who was his intellectual equal. Thus, when I found him in your arms, I knew three things: I knew that you were his lover, I knew that he considers you his equal, and, therefore, that it could only have been you that came with him that evening."

"Actually, we just happened to be handcuffed together at the time," I said dismissively. "But how do you know it wasn't _L _that shot him?"

B snorted and laughed. It was the single most disturbing sound I had ever heard. It was the opposite of Ryuuzaki's laugh, and coming from someone who looked so similar it was captivating and torturous. "L's father shot himself," he said. "In the head, even. Do you think he would use a gun, except as a last resort? Unlike you, he has many other methods by which he can defend himself."

"Okay," I said shortly, effectively ending the witty repartee.

He pretended that he was not thrown off, but because I could read L and because I knew that that would have thrown even _him_ off, I could see through the nearly-flawless cover. After all, who would expect me to actually _stop talking_?

"Good," he all but purred. "Now, I imagine you want to know why you are here."

"Not really," I shrugged, looking at a nail. It was too dark to see it clearly, but my point was made.

"Even better, as I don't particularly care what you want." He smiled. "You are here, in an abandoned warehouse, not far away from yet another abandoned warehouse called 'Yellow Box' for decidedly uninventive reasons. I use this as a landmark because you may have heard of Yellow Box- you _are _just a teenager after all. It is quite the hangout. No? Well, regardless, it may interest you to know that L is here as well."

_Now_ he had my attention, and he knew it even though I didn't display any change.

"Yes, L is here as well," he repeated, sounding utterly delighted. I immediately started planning how to get that grin off his face. Would my fingernails do the trick? "Now. At the moment, he knows you are here. He can see us through a very large, sound and bullet proof glass wall, which I installed for this purpose. He sits there, and in front of him is a single page of the Death Note. There is also a pin. My intentions are obvious, and he knows them, no communication necessary. I tell you this," he explained, "so that you may watch in horror as he does what he must do; what _anyone_ would do to save the one they love."

I frowned. A page of the Death Note and a pin. Clearly, Ryuuzaki was intended to write a name, using blood for the dramatic effect and the symbolism. But who was he supposed to kill...?

"No!" I shouted, almost knocking myself over with the force of my denial.

B rolled his eyes, already knowing the conclusion I had drawn.

"Not his _own_ name, idiot." He smiled again. "_Mine_."

"What...?"

"I want him to write my name. I want him to kill for no reason other than to save you. And he will."

"Why would you _want_ that?" I asked frantically, casting about for the room B had mentioned, to no avail. It was always possible that it was a lie to get me to do what he wanted, but I couldn't take the chance. Mello and Near hadn't been a lie.

"It was always the plan to die to best L. It is simply... easier... now that C is dead."

"But what will making him _kill_ _you_ change?" Of course, I already knew. But I needed time... time... although what I would _do_ with time, if I could get some, was beyond me.

His eyes lit up. "Everything."

"What?" I stalled.

"I will win. Finally, I will win."

"How is dying winning?" I demanded. Now I was actually curious, but I was smart enough to think and listen at the same time, which I was doing. Feverishly.

"Because L has never killed anyone. But there he sits, knowing my name, knowing what I intend for him. And he will choose it, because it is the only logical solution, and because he must follow what is logical. He will kill me, and the memory of me will haunt him forever. 'Innocence' will be destroyed, if he has any. 'Justice' will be forever unattainable."

"He's not innocent," I protested desperately. "You _must_ know what he does to some of his suspects..." I wasn't coming up with any plans.

"It is not the same," B said, deadly calm. "Torture and murder are two entirely different things. You should understand this better than anyone. Only the Bubonic Plague rivals _you_, Kira, in mortality."

"And you? How much blood is on _your_ hands? Or your clothes."

"Many, many lives. Many. But what does it matter? The Shinigami, currently keeping L company in his little viewing-room, egging him on 'because it sounds interesting,' told me everything- there is only MU. Obliteration. Nothingness."

His mood swung, and as rational as his arguments were he was equally insane. He was in tears now, weeping, holding his head and clutching his hair in fists, squatting down and curling his shoulders in. "There will be no C when I die. A suicide mission. Near and Mello, judging by the adjacent room and just because I know him. For me, because it's what _I _would have done. And I couldn't get to him in time to show him that I am alive... terribly, terribly alive... He was still warm when I found him..."

A sob cracked through his too-thin frame, making him shake violently through every part of him, still mostly on the floor.

"Faking my death. If I had only come up with a way to get to him sooner... even a _day_ sooner, an _hour_. I would not be alone. I would not be without him."

His mood swung again, and now he was looking up at me through his tears. When he did that, he looked exactly like L did when trying to be cute, except I suspected that B wasn't doing it on purpose. Not that he looked at all cute.

"Do you know what it's like?" he choked. "What it's like to have your soul torn from your body? Kira, do you know what that is like? If anyone should understand... it would be... someone with a soul as broken as yours."

"How did you find the Death Note where I buried it?" I asked coldly.

He moaned. "I wish I knew. After C died, I was walking in the woods, and I saw a spade and knew to dig there."

"How did you get L and me out of my house?"

"It was unbelievably easy," he said, his voice an inseparable mixture of a whimper and a laugh. "Chloroform. I imagine it is also how C got Mihael and Nate out of Wammy's without waking Mail. We thought alike, of course."

Real names this time. Interesting. So he _did_ have something similar to the Eyes.

Ryuuzaki thought B didn't know his name. But he himself had told me that B had something like the Eyes, was able to see people's names, having made no deal with any Shinigami. Was it _possible_ that L had never made the connection?

"Why don't you kill him with the Death Note?"

"I do not need a Death Note to kill someone, Light Yagami," he said exhaustedly. "It is also not my goal for him to _die. _I want him to lose, to be haunted, nothing more and most certainly nothing less. Even if I wanted to use the Death Note, though, all I see- have ever seen- is his codename, L, given to him at Wammy's, with a last name. It just appears as 'L Lawliet' and I do not know why."

If B's ability really was like the Shinigami eyes, then Ryuuzaki's real name was 'L Lawliet.' Period. Hiding in plain sight, L, as usual. But did B have to know that? No. So L knew that B technically _did_ know his real name, but that he didn't know he knew it. B probably automatically assumed that L was an exception because of the level of emotion he obviously held for him, whether hate or respect I was not yet sure. Anyway, it would have been impossible for L to explain it without revealing to me that his first name actually _was_ L.

Strange name. But it fit him.

Wait! I didn't want to know his name! What if Kira took over now? Could that happen?

And then B was suddenly no longer pathetic as yet another mood swing took him over.

* * *

**"I can't replace your screaming face.  
**

**Feeling the sickness inside.**

**Why won't you die?  
**

**Your blood in mine."**

**-Why Won't You Die, System of a Down**

* * *

**A/N: This takes place in the warehouse to which Light runs and dies in the anime canon (not the Yellow Box). This fact is actually important. I tried to communicate it, but I wanted to be DARN SURE that everyone got it. XD**


	38. Like Salt in the Wound

**Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note or Another Note.**

**A/N: Again, parts of this chapter are not for the squeamish.**

* * *

B changed like smoke, and suddenly he was furious. He rushed forward and grabbed me by the shirt, twisting up the fabric in his fist, lifting me off the ground, and he dragged me right up to his face. He smelled like blood.

"You _son of a bitch!_" he howled. "Distracting me with useless questions, trying to get me to reveal my _plans_!" He shook me so hard that my head flopped everywhere, my neck protesting the violence. "You want me to tell you what my plan for you is? I can do better than that. I'll _show_ you my plan." He grinned, and from this close I could see that his teeth were straight and white. They looked exactly like L's. How the hell had he done that?

And why did his _breath_ smell like blood, too?

I didn't say a word as he stared at me, absorbing me with his eyes.

If this guy was like L, admittedly an insane L, then was I like C? Could I ever be like that? If I lost L, would I go even crazier than I was already? Would I end up like C, some sobbing lump rocking myself back and forth?

As I looked into those eyes, I knew I could. And would. And that I absolutely couldn't lose him.

But I couldn't have resembled C to B, because he promptly pitched me to the floor, swooping down and snatching my wrist. He dragged me some unknown distance, digging his filthy fingernails into my skin, drawing blood and introducing unknown bacteria and viruses directly into my bloodstream, which I found delightful. He heaved me up onto some kind of table, flipping me over hard enough to knock the breath out of me.

Then, for a moment, I was quite scared that I actually _did_ remind him of C, because he began to rip off my shirt.

"What the _fuck_?" I demanded of him.

"Language," B scolded calmly, strapping my hands and feet down to the table with- yes, I recognized the feel- handcuffs. "And there will be no fucking. Sorry to disappoint you."

"I won't have to bite off my tongue then," I snapped back. "Now what the _fuck_ are you doing?"

He closed the cuffs as tight as they would go, pinching at my skin and encouraging new little blossoms of blood from where he had dug his claws into me. I wiggled my fingers experimentally. Not much space to move.

"The room I mentioned, the one holding the one with whom you do unspeakable things, can also see this room," he said monotonously, still smiling. "Do not bother yelling to him because, as I said, it is soundproof. It will only give headaches to the both of us. And, shortly, you will not want to be in any additional pain."

But _I_ knew that L could read lips. I couldn't see where he was, it was too dark. But B kept glancing in one particular direction, so I chose that one and gave it a shot.

_'Don't do it,'_ I mouthed. _'Ryuuzaki, I'm talking to you. Don't. Do. It."_

B saw me moving my lips and misinterpreted the focused expression on my face. "_Praying_, Kira?"

"Hardly," I said in my smoothest, most arrogant voice.

"Ah, because I was about to _say!_ Don't you think it's a little too late to save _your_ soul?"

"Mine? Yes. But L's? You would do the same thing if it were C."

"How many times has L actually done what you requested of him?"

"...It's happened."

"Wow," he mocked, "then he really _does_ love you. If he has obeyed you once, it is once more than he has obeyed anyone else. That's good. He will most certainly be more than happy to kill me to save you, then."

I turned my head in another direction and mouthed it again, just in case. It was all I could do; I was very firmly tied down.

"You can do what you wish, you know," B continued. "Mouth words at him. Yell, hoping it will penetrate the glass. Whatever you wish. It doesn't matter. No matter what you say, he will eventually give in. Even if you can hold in the screams, pretend it doesn't hurt... he will know, because it is what I did to _him_, years ago. And he remembers exactly how close he was to bleeding to death, or to me severing his spine. And if you think he will allow the same thing to happen to _you_? There is nothing in the world you could say that will make him let you die."

B was going to do to me what he had done to L. That long, twisted scar down his back and over his spine. For some reason, possibly because of that wonderful chemical in the body known as adrenalin, I wasn't afraid.

And, well, what he had said was true.

I had a thought. What if L resorted to killing himself to make B release me?

No, because then B would kill me anyway out of happiness or frustration. I was sure Ryuuzaki had, by now, thought of that plan and dismissed it just as quickly. Maybe he had already thought of a way out of this. I would just have to trust him- I was powerless.

"Whatever," I said, feigning submission. "Just get it over with."

B didn't like this. I could tell. So he took his volume up a few decibels and whipped out a scalpel. He twirled it between his long fingers (L's fingers), obviously familiar with it.

"C, for obvious reasons, enjoyed being cut, to an extent. I indulged that desire but limited it to _shallow_ cuts, of course. So I ended up learning quite a bit about how to control this object." To accentuate his point, he flashed it across me, barely skimming the skin. But scalpels, at least when they're new, are razor sharp, and it left a stinging, superficial cut across my bare back. "My parents were surgeons," he told me, as if that explained anything.

He brought it to the waistband of my pants and, I could feel but not see, lifted them between two fingers. They fell away easily when he cut them, as did my boxers with another swipe. The man tugged them out from under me and tossed them aside.

His thin, cool finger came down my spine, then. It felt for all the world like Ryuuzaki, and I couldn't repress the shudder.

He grinned at that- I could hear it in his voice. "Are you afraid of me?"

"No," I replied without hesitation.

He sliced me again, slightly deeper. It stung more.

"Now?"

"If you're looking for someone to scream in terror at the very sight of you, you should consider getting naked. Then I'd be _really _scared."

"Very well," he shrugged, and took the knife to me again.

He cut me thirteen times in total, which was very appropriate. It, of course, hurt like hell, but I didn't thrash around or arch my back, even when he cut deeply enough to make me bleed. I wanted to vomit when he stooped down and ran his tongue over one of the cuts, licking his lips when he straightened back up, but I refrained.

This didn't please him, so he reached under the table I was on and brought out a bottle. What was it? A drug? More chloroform?

He twisted off the top and held it under my nose. ...Iodine? The scent burned my nostrils, but I didn't pass out or anything, so it wasn't drugged.

"People spend so much money on torture nowadays. Even L. When really, I have always found the simple things to be the most effective."

He dipped his little finger into the iodine then popped it into his mouth, making a face. "Usually I stay with salt. I don't like to use iodine because it ruins the flavor of the blood," he explained, "But for you and L I make exceptions," he informed me. "_This_," he added, "hurts like Hell."

And then, with a flourish, he poured it on my back.

If I hadn't been present in the last ten minutes, if I had come in on this just now, I seriously would have thought that my back was _actually_ on fire. I screamed, squirming, twisting against my chains, succeeding only in tearing my skin at my wrists. Now B was smiling, but I was too busy trying to escape and to convince my pain receptors to just _get over-stimulated and stop working, already!_ to worry about that.

"Wouldn't want you to get an infection, now?" he asked, his voice dripping with faux concern.

"C-couldn't ha-have that, could w-we," I panted, maintaining my stand on sarcasm.

"I'm glad you agree," he said warmly.

He was dipping the scalpel in something, but it was hard to see through the tears that my eyes produced despite me. I realized that he actually had yet to do to me what he had done to L.

Tenderly, almost lovingly, he leaned over my body and touched the sharp edge, not cutting, to my left shoulder blade. Right where Ryuuzaki's scar started. If I survived this, at least we'd match. That would be kind of cute, wouldn't it?

He cut it shallowly. Then over the same place again, harder. Then again, with more pressure. Then again, even more. He was sawing steadily away at me, and for all the money in the _world_ I would not have been able to keep my pain to myself. Surgery without anesthesia. Even the soldiers in the old wars had been allowed to be drunk when their limbs were being amputated.

Once he was as deep as he intend to go (and it was deep, it went into my muscle, the rubbing alcohol igniting new nerves deep down in me, dampened eventually by the blood), he readjusted his grip on the scalpel until he was holding it as a very young child holds a crayon: with his fist.

He began to drag it that way down my back.

He twisted it, and I screamed until my voice disappeared, fighting against my bonds in the darkness, my body spasming against the muscles that were being nearly split in half as he moved down, coming towards my ribs.

Then B jerked and froze. I had seen enough heart attacks to know, even without looking directly at the person, exactly how it would work. I overextended my neck to see his face, which was split into a massive grin. He absently let go of the scalpel (which stayed upright in me, to my horror) and flew to his breast, clutching. "Finally," he hissed through gritted teeth. "It's over."

He rolled his bulging eyes towards me, the crimson seeming to turn darker by the moment in stark contrast to his pale skin, now spattered with my blood, and to the whites of his eyes. "I win," he whispered.

His knees gave out and he collapsed on top of me, putting pressure on already very sensitive flesh and making me moan in pain. As he died, he pressed some kind of button.

And then he was dead.

The Death Note was absolute.

* * *

**"Attend the tale of Sweeney Todd.  
**

**His skin was pale and his eye was odd.  
**

**He shaved the faces of gentlemen who never thereafter were heard of again.  
**

**He trod a path that few have trod, did Sweeney Todd... the demon barber of Fleet Street.**

**Swing your razor wide, Sweeney! Hold it to the skies!**

**Freely flows the blood of those who moralize.**

**Inconspicuous Sweeney was, quick and quiet and clean he was.  
**

**Back of his smile, under his word, Sweeney heard music that nobody heard.  
**

**Sweeney pondered and Sweeney planned, like a perfect machine he planned.**

**Sweeney was smooth, Sweeney was subtle, Sweeney would blink, and the rats would scuttle.**

**Sweeney! Sweeney! Sweeney! Sweeney! Sweeney!"**

**-The Ballad of Sweeney Todd, Sweeny Todd**

* * *

**You should look up the song! If you do, try to find the Broadway version... sift through all the high school plays doing it.**


	39. Dead Man's Grip

**Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note.**

**Originally this fic was done in six months. It now looks like it took several years. XD Just wanted to acknowledge that, lol.**

**Edited by Rekhyt!**

* * *

I stared at the body of L's greatest enemy. Well, as much of it as I could see, anyway, tied down as I was with the body in question on top of me. He had only missed that scalpel by inches; he'd come _so close_ to falling on it and driving it straight through me. I sighed in relief, the expansion of my lungs restricted a bit by his weight and by my wounds.

B's face had fallen near mine, and with his eyes closed he was indistinguishable from Ryuuzaki.

He looked just like him. Like... how Ryuuzaki would look... dead.

No. I couldn't think about that. I simply couldn't, and everyone would just have to be okay with it. Because I couldn't. I shuddered, trying to squirm B off of me, but I was pinned.

The horror of being trapped, and of being trapped by a _corpse _(hadn't I dreamt this?), crept up on me, but I was distracted by a 'ping' and the sound of a glass door (was it a door?) scraping mechanically open. That must have been the result of the button B now clutched in a dead man's grip. Dread swept over me. It was going to be something horrible, wasn't it. It was gonna vacuum the air out of L's room... or fill it up with water... something to kill him...

But, would he want to kill me to make L suffer? Or would he want to kill L to make _me_ suffer, for killing C?

Then I felt a mass being removed from me and I saw B's body flung aside.

Then familiar hands, removing the handcuffs and grazing over my uncut skin, touching the scalpel and gently, gently taking it out. I gritted my teeth and didn't scream- getting it out hurt a lot less than getting it _in_ had.

There. _That _touch was L. I had no idea how I could have thought that B's hands felt at all the same. Sure, they were both cool, light... but this was L.

I smiled weakly at him as he collected me up and brought me to him gently, cradling me.

"Light, I'm sorry I waited," he said. "How badly did he cut you? I apologize. I should have killed him immediately."

"No," I insisted, not pulling away from him because I wasn't able to and because I had no desire to, had I _been_ able. The strength of my adamancy against his actions was undermined only slightly by my clinginess. "You shouldn't have killed him at all. You should have let me die."

"Why?"

"You should have let me die," I repeated quietly. "Murder _does things_ to people, Ryuuzaki. You don't deserve to be destroyed. The world needs you."

He gave a sardonic half-smile and said, "L, as the defender of justice, has been destroyed already, when I chose you over him. Ryuuzaki has no innocence that is necessary to protect."

I knew that he believed that Ryuuzaki and L were separate entities, because if he didn't, he'd logically have to believe that Light and Kira weren't, either. But they _weren't_ two separate creatures. L and Ryuuzaki were the _same_, just like I, Light, was Kira and there was no way around it.

And L/Ryuuzaki- _Lawliet_- had still been Justice before now. Even with everything he had done, he had never killed someone, especially not for such a selfish reason as protecting his boyfriend, and it was going to destroy him. L was going to take Ryuuzaki down with him when he fell, because they were the same.

So why wasn't he a trembling heap yet?

I couldn't see Ryuuzaki (being hugged by him as I was), but I could see B's body where it was crumpled on the floor. I stared at it. His murderer must not yet have processed the reality of his actions, because your first murder is never a pleasant experience. If he had realized it, he would have had some kind of reaction. Even _he_ would have.

He didn't get it. The Great and Powerful L (who _was _the same as Ryuuzaki, no matter what he believed) didn't really, fully, and truly understand what murder, especially with the Death Note, did to a person's soul. If he thought that he'd be fine just because it was the logical decision, he was wrong.

I had to keep him from really seeing the body. Maybe, if he didn't look, it would never sink in and he wouldn't go through what I did the first time; vomiting in an alley because I'd murdered someone with the Death Note. He didn't get it. He just didn't get it...

I knew I was panicking and I tried to keep my voice calm. "You don't deserve how it's going to haunt you," I said finally. "B said he did it to destroy you. His last words were 'I win.' Did you know you were doing exactly what he _wanted_ you to do?"

He shrugged. "I was aware of his intentions, but I also knew that it was pointless. His strategy was outdated, but he would have been correct. L, Justice, would have been destroyed by this, if he still existed. However, he does not. As it stands, Ryuuzaki is unaffected. _I_ am unaffected. I do not regret my decision. Nothing has changed."

If he was right and L and Ryuuzaki really _were_ separate entities, then he would be fine. Unchanged, like he said.

If _I _was right- and I really believed I was- then this action would be the death of him.

My brain hurt. Sometimes being a genius really sucked. ...Not _often_, but it had its moments. "We should probably stop this bleeding," I said softly. "I'm also having trouble moving my left arm."

He agreed, no doubt remembering exactly what it felt like, and moved to let me stand up.

He froze.

Having not released me yet, I couldn't escape when he suddenly clutched me to his chest, effectively squeezing every cut on my body. I screamed despite myself, but he didn't notice.

"Light..." he said quietly, "I killed him."

"Yeah," I whispered back, breath heavy from pain. "But... he was a monster..."

"So are you," he said vaguely, distantly. His grip on me did not slacken.

The remark stung even more than the cuts, but it was too true for me to deny it. You can't kill thousands of people and not expect a good slur thrown your way now and then.

It felt good, in a way, to hear him finally say out loud what I'd been thinking all along. Then I realized the implicit and possibly incidental meaning within that statement- he made Kira and Light the same person, which meant he accepted that Ryuuzaki and L were as well.

"I know," I replied finally. "But you probably saved a bunch of people's lives. Actually, I _know_ you saved a bunch of people's lives... if you had killed _yourself_ with the Death Note instead of B, I would have totally lost it..."

But what I said wasn't getting through. It was too much, I realized, in too short a time. His "children" were murdered. His lover was Kira. His "father" was dead. And now...

L shattered, and as I myself had said, L and Ryuuzaki could not be separated; Ryuuzaki shattered with him.

His arms were still strong around me, but they weren't _his_ arms. I squirmed away from him and held him by the shoulders, staring him in the eyes, trying to find him. But he wasn't there. Causing incredible pain to myself, I took his face in my functioning arm and kissed him furiously. He returned it adequately, but _he_ wasn't in there.

Nothing.

No more Ryuuzaki.

No more L.

Nothing.

I had thought he did a good 'blank' face- I had no idea.

He was gone.

He was dead.

It was all over.

All for nothing.

"Ryuuzaki," I begged.

"Yes?" His voice sounded normal, its usual strange, impossible combination of expressive and emotionless. He even walked normally, held himself normally.

"Ryuuzaki..." I repeated, heart breaking. Then, "I'm sorry, but I'm about to bleed to death."

"Of course." He lifted me, which sent yet more pangs of agony through what felt like every nerve in my body, and began to carry me.

"Ryuuzaki, I can walk," I said gently. "It kind of hurts to be carried. Plus, you need to get B's body and the pages of the Death Note out of here."

"That is true," he agreed. He carefully put me down, and then disappeared for a long moment into the shadows at the back of the warehouse. He returned with the pages B had given him.

Upon it was written _Beyond Birthday_.

What a strange name.

I shook that off as L hoisted B, carrying him as he had carried Mello so, so long ago. Actually, only _days_ ago.

"Are... you okay?" I asked, terrified that I would receive an accurate answer.

"Certainly," he replied.

With my eyes closed, I could almost have convinced myself that he wasn't lying. He didn't _know _he was lying, of course. It was just... automatic. Like it had been for me, once.

Perfectly pleasantly and remarkably dexterously considering the fact that he was holding a body, he fished his cell phone out of his pocket (B hadn't needed to take them away) and made a call. I followed him at a limp out of the building.

Almost immediately, a car pulled up to us. Part of me expected to see Watari, which of course was absurd. That must have been the part that was woozy from blood loss.

L passed B's body into the car (the driver didn't even blink), and then helped me. My head was spinning.

I didn't catch where Ryuuzaki instructed the driver to go, because as soon as my head met L's lap on the seat, I passed out.

* * *

**"It's hiding in the dark; its teeth are razor sharp.  
**

**There's no escape for me, it wants my soul, it wants my heart.  
**

**No one can hear me scream; maybe it's just a dream.  
**

**Maybe it's inside of me, stop this monster.**

**I, I feel like a monster."**

**-Monster, Skillet**


	40. L's Chapter

**Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note or A Clockwork Orange. If you know why I'm saying I don't own Clockwork Orange for **_**this**_** particular chapter, I'll love you forever.**

**A/N: This chapter did not exist the first time around, so if you don't remember it, don't be alarmed. XD Also, it's *supposed* to be confusing, so don't be alarmed by that, either. :)**

**Despite how it may seem, it's **_**definitely**_** L POV. It's just a mix of delusions, memories, actual truths, and outright falsehoods.**

**Edited by Rekhyt!**

* * *

**L POV**

I had never been so glad for my medical training as I was now, meticulously stitching up the one I loved, aligning his flesh perfectly to minimize the inevitable scar and maximize the use that would be restored to the limb. With proper physical therapy, the outlook was quite good. For instance, I had regained ninety-eight percent function of my injured trapezius, and it had been far more damaged than Light's.

When the wound was sutured shut, I gently wiped away the blood that was caked onto his skin, and then I watched the boy for whom I had given up everything as he slept.

We matched now, partially, although B hadn't managed to carve his initial into what was _mine_.

And that was good. I was sick and tired of Roger taking my hat away, and at some point I was going to talk to him about taking my stuff. Just because he and Quillsh were technically my caretakers did _not_ give him the right to go through my room. And just because he believed it was rude to wear a hat indoors did not give him the right to conduct an illegal search and seizure. In fact, I had just learned about that particular section of legal proceedings two weeks ago. Maybe this was a lesson? Was I expected to hold a mock-trial for him?

Well, I wasn't going to do it. She couldn't make me. I didn't feel that way about her, and all the notes in the world would not be enough to change that. She was simply not at my level, despite how 'cute' she was apparently considered to be by all the other boys. Try as I might, I couldn't see it. She had far too much hair. I couldn't stand messy hair, which is why I kept mine pristine by getting it cut every five months, at _least_. You would never catch a strand of _my_ hair out of place. I had even managed to be bound and gagged in a cell for fifty days and still be incredibly attractive- imagine how neat my hair is when I actually am able to put forth effort. If people would actually give me time in the bathroom in the morning, I'd look even better.

Regardless, it was unlikely that I would ever _get_ that time. The spoiled detective has me running around the Investigation Building all the time, cleaning up after everyone. Matsuda, the noisy one, is especially messy, and I suspect he has feelings for a particular brunette who is handcuffed to and thoroughly smitten with the head detective of the case, Ryunabi or Ryuuzaki or something.

Exhaling loudly, I patted Light on the back, careful to avoid his newly-sewn flesh. Those sheets would be ruined. I would have to remember to replace those at my earliest convenience. For now, I was unwilling to move Light, rightfully concerned about his survival. I had him on a drip that would be effective in preventing infection, but honestly B's iodine would probably take care of that. All things considered, as painful as it was, iodine was a relatively kind thing to use. It could have been salt or lemon juice, which would not have _nearly_ the sterilizing effect of iodine.

Not that I would ever consider B kind, of course. When I heard he was dead (the first time), despite my best efforts to be saddened, I was relieved. Until then, even when he was in prison, there had always been a part of me that believed he would come back for me.

And, as usual, I was correct: B did come back for me, just not in a way that I ever could have imagined before.

I frowned at the boy in front of me, holding a small, black & white animal in his arms.

"_No_, T, I told you that you're not allowed to bring animals into the House without permission."

"But L, he's cold and hungry and it's raining!" he whined. "And he hasn't sprayed me once! He likes me."

"Just because he likes _you _does not mean he will like and refrain from spraying anyone else! You _know_ that Roger will never give you permission to have a skunk," I insisted.

His small lips formed a pout. "I know, but you could tell him to let me."

"I could, but I am not going to."

"Why _not_?"

"Because the creature you have in your possession is a skunk!"

Honestly. Kids these days. I hated children, but how could I turn Quillsh down when he asked me to run this place for him? Especially when he said I was the only one he trusted to do it?

Sighing, I headed downstairs.

As usual, Soichiro was there to meet me, instantly attentive. Such a good worker. If only he were smarter. "Where have you been for the last three days? Ryuuzaki? ...What's... the matter?"

"Hm? Nothing," I lied. "Light-kun is a bit ill, so I will have to quarantine him until he recovers. Nothing to worry about, but he won't be up and around for a few days at least."

"Oh... I didn't even know he wasn't feeling well..." He frowned, probably concerned he was losing touch with his son- a fear which had been realized many years ago without his knowledge.

"It is understandable that you may have missed such a thing." Largely because it didn't exist. "You have been working quite hard."

"Actually... both of you left the house so quickly a few nights ago... and, well, we figured you two were just off somewhere... you know... so we didn't want to disturb you by asking... but since then we haven't really had anything to do... Ryuuzaki, is it true that you have closed the Kira case?"

I nodded absently. "It is. Higuchi was Kira and is now deceased. We have his murder weapon, the destruction of which I have assigned myself. Now, it occurs to me that the closure of this case leaves you and the other members of the Kira Investigation unemployed?"

"Well, yes, we did have to leave the police to work on the Kira case."

"Then I will allow you to work with me, well-paid, until such a time as you are able to find employment elsewhere. Please proceed to find us a new case, Yagami-san."

His eyes went wide. I loved doing that, even though I was being far too generous; these people were largely useless and paying them as handsomely as I intended to was, put bluntly, a waste of my resources. However, I did feel somewhat responsible for their lost jobs, and I believed this would ease my conscience on the matter.

"Thank you very much, Ryuuzaki! We'll get started on that immediately!"

Without further instruction from me, he hurried away to resume his dedicated but meaningless work.

Satisfied with the situation, I returned upstairs to check on my unconscious lover.

At least, that was my intention.

"Light..." I whispered.

Because he was pale, white, and cold. He had died. How... I had only been gone for a few hours! He had not been in such a state as to require constant supervision! How could he... Light!

I dropped to my knees by the bedside, my face going to my hands, tears already streaming down my face. To have given everything up for one person... to have saved him from himself at the ultimate personal cost... my beautiful boy... And now to find him... dead...

I had almost lost him before, when I barely got to him in time to stop his suicide. Until this moment, I had thought that I could feel no worse than I did at that moment. I was wrong, though; this was far worse. This time, he did not even have a say in it. He was dead because of me, because of _my_ past, and because he had killed C to save me. Why hadn't I thought to confirm B's death? I could not expect his simple jailors to be able to see through what was surely a brilliantly faked death. Why had it never occurred to me to hunt down C? I must have known what C was capable of, upon the loss of B. So why had I just given an internal hoorah and continued with my life?

But of course, the truth was simple- it was because I was distracted by my emotions. Emotions I am not supposed to have. If I had not been distracted by giving my internal hoorah, I would have thought to confirm B's death and to check up on C. And because of my emotions, the one I loved was now dead.

I wasn't even supposed to love him. Maybe this was better. Now I really could be L, because, unlike with everyone else, there are no 'other fish in the sea' for me. If Light was gone, then there would be no one else- I could cut off my humanity once and for all. It would be easy, now. Perhaps in the past, I could not do it out of hope that possibly, someday, I would find someone who could love me. Now...

Light made a little sound of pain, so I stood up, wiped my eyes, adjusted his morphine, then sank slowly back down.

...Wait.

I leapt to my feet, nearly tripping on myself as I launched my body to his bedside, my fingers immediately going for his neck to check his pulse.

It was_ there_.

He had come back from the dead! He had gone from stone cold to alive and warm because of my tears!

But no, of course it wasn't because of my tears. That was silly. Of course it was because of God. People always teased me because of how strong my faith had always been, but now it was paying off. Anyone else would have just cried on the floor, but I had taken action. I had immediately prayed harder than I ever had before, and God had granted His faithful servant's request. It had been a hard road, full of ridicule by my friends and family, but finally, finally, never doubting in Him had made the difference. The woman I loved was _alive_.

Joy welling up inside me, I leaned forward to kiss her gently on the lips.

Laughing with joy and praising my Lord, I danced out of the room and back down to the main computer lab. It was about time I resumed working on the Kira case. My excursion to visit my family in England with Light had been nice, but it was unbelievably selfish of me to have taken such a hiatus. How many people had died because of me?

I ran some searches. Apparently, none. Was Kira on hiatus as well? Well then, when had it started?

A few more searches, and my eyes widened in horror.

In the whole time Light and I had been visiting Paris, no one had been killed. The whole entire time, Kira had not done a thing.

So that meant... that Light had to be Kira.

What was I supposed to _do? _Why had I never considered this possibility before? Light was the perfect woman to be Kira, so why had it never crossed my mind that it may in fact be my lover who was responsible for the greatest single-handed killing spree of all time? As she held me at night, did she contemplate her next murders as I soundly slept? Was she using me to get an insider's look at the investigation?

My mind rejected the thought. No. I was certain she loved me- no one is that good an actor... except... well, she did have quite a track record of lying to everyone else... so why not me?

With a sob, I sprinted to our shared bedroom where she slept peacefully in her usual white nightgown.

The white nightgown that I would soon, oh my brothers, be staining with red, red kroovy and a bit of the old ultraviolence.

I plunged down with my knife and got close to pricking her skin, until, at the absolute last minute, I slammed on the breaks.

Because Light couldn't be Kira- it all made _sense_ now. How could he love me if he were Kira? He couldn't. But he definitely loved me, so that could only mean that he _wasn't_ Kira.

This left only one person in the world who _could_ be Kira...

Matsuda.

Who else had the intelligence, the charisma, the downright charm to pull off such an extensive, convoluted scheme? Who else had the drive, the ambition, and the sheer lack of empathy that would allow one to become the most deadly serial killer the world has ever known? Who else had the physical beauty to blind everyone around him from his true actions?

Touta Matsuda.

Stowing my knife in its secret compartment under my bed, I reached for Light to wake him and tell him the news.

* * *

**"They're coming to take me away, ha-ha, **

**They're coming to take me away, ho-ho, hee-hee, ha-ha, to the funny farm**

**Where life is beautiful all the time and I'll be happy to see **

**Those nice young men in their clean white coats **

**And they're coming to take me away, ha-ha!"**

**-They're Coming to Take Me Away Ha-Ha, Napoleon XIV**


	41. Astrapophobia

**Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note or Hamlet.**

* * *

I woke up on my stomach in our bed with an ache clenching my heart that I couldn't attribute to my injuries.

For a moment, I wondered how I had gotten there. More than that, though, I wondered why my heart hurt so badly. It felt a little bit like how I had felt at Watari's funeral, only much more intense. As in, two weeks ago I would have said that I'm incapable of feeling the amount of psychic pain that I was currently feeling. I was almost sure it was grief, but, like guilt, it was an emotion I was less familiar with. Had someone died?

Speaking of dead, why wasn't I? I should have bled to death by now. I reached for my back and my fingers met stitches. Professional, hospital-grade.

"Light-kun, you are awake," a familiar voice said gently. "Let's get you stitched up."

I tried to blink him into focus. Something about that statement was wrong, but my sluggish, serotonin-drenched brain was slow to catch up.

"Uh..." I searched, frowning. "_You're_ gonna do it?" That was it, I think. Why couldn't we go a hospital, where they had disinfectant and anesthesia and people with medical licenses and other fun things like that? Granted, it was entirely possible that L had a medical license. But wasn't this exactly what hospitals were _for_?

Wait. No. The problem was that there were _already_ stitches in it.

"Certainly," he replied. "I am more than capable of such a thing."

"Ryuuzaki... you don't know how to put a _Band-Aid_ on another person..."

"Of course, Light-kun. I would never attempt such a medical procedure on someone, least of all you."

"But-"

"You are going to a hospital, and that is final. I know of an excellent one, very nearby. Canterbury. We shall-"

"Ryuuzaki," I insisted, "that place is abandoned."

He frowned. "You must be mistaken. I was there last week for my diabetes."

"You're not diabetic. Miraculously. And the place is definitely abandoned. We were there only a few days ago. That's where C died. Don't you remember?"

"C... is dead?" he echoed in genuine horror, eyes getting huge. "Poor _B_... he must be... We must restrain him before he does something rash. I will get Watari on it immediately. How did it happen?"

I stared at him.

"Watari, _how did it happen_?" he repeated, frowning.

I grabbed him and hugged him, ignoring the stabbing pain. "What's wrong with you?"

His arms came around me and returned my embrace. "Light? What's the matter?"

There! That one was Ryuuzaki! I held him out to look at him. "You're not... making sense."

He tilted his head. "I find that unlikely, at least coming from you. While I have been told by a multitude of people with intelligence inferior to my own that I 'do not make sense,' no one with the capacity to understand me has ever said such a thing."

There. He really _was_ back. Maybe that had just been a mental lapse or some kind of fit or something.

I sighed in relief, trying to push everything my brain was giving me about trauma as far away as possible. Just because he had been through a traumatic event- or nine- didn't mean he was necessarily going to go crazy. _I_ had gone through a traumatic event and _I_ was... okay, that wasn't a good example.

The sweaty, shaky, crawly feeling on every inch of my skin was not helping me focus on this thought process. Was I developing a tolerance to the upgraded 'Death Note Patch' already? How long had I been unconscious?

I lay back down, taking him with me, and adjusted him in my arms. "Don't do that again, okay?"

"I don't know what you're talking about, Light."

"You thought you had to stitch me up, when I already have stitches. You got confused about hospitals, and thought you had diabetes, and forgot that C was dead and B... and you thought I was Watari... and you don't remember any of it."

He paused for a thoughtful moment. "Assuming you are both truthful and unmistaken- and I am inclined to believe you, seeing as how, if you were to lie to me at some point in our relationship, you certainly would have done it by now- the most logical conclusion is that I am experiencing delusions."

"That's what it looked like," I whispered.

"Perhaps... I am losing my mind?"

"The insane don't believe they're insane," I protested into his hair. For the first time, I hated his objectivity, despite the rapidly increasing admiration I held for it.

"I do not _believe_ I am. It is simply... the logical conclusion..." he faded off, and I didn't need to see his face to know what he must be thinking.

For someone like L to lose his mind... and for someone like L to now know not to trust the one thing he had trusted all his life...

"Oh," I said softly.

I tightened my grip on him and he rested his head on my chest.

"Don't leave me," I whispered.

He buried his nose in my skin and curled up, but said nothing.

We lay like that, and his warmth plus my blood loss plus what must have been leftover anesthesia threatened to knock me out. Now more than ever in my life, I didn't want to fall asleep. I sensed that there wasn't much time left and, although I had no real reason to believe such a thing from a single instance of apparent confusion on his part, I didn't want to miss a moment of him. I forced my eyelids open every time they drifted shut, until Ryuuzaki finally kissed my eyes and murmured to me, "Sleep, Light."

Almost instantly, I knew no more.

* * *

When I woke up, it was dark. My timeline was so screwed up, it wasn't even funny. L was sitting in a corner across the room, his shirt filthy even by his standards, staring in fascination at the thoroughly not-fascinating unvacuumable dust in the corner of the carpet.

I sat up in bed, wincing.

"Ryuuzaki?"

He looked up at me, his eyes so far from _his_ that I wanted to cry right then and there.

"Are you going to be okay, Father?" he asked me seriously.

He said his father had died when he was really little, so he had to be, like, two right now. Had he talked that way when he was that age? Of course he had; that was a stupid question.

At a loss as to what I should do, I almost responded, but to my relief he continued before I got the chance. "Mother tells me that you are ill. Do you believe you will recover?"

He gazed at me expectantly, for all the world like a little kid, albeit a dangerously intelligent little kid.

Well, since his father had survived to shoot himself later, I assumed he did. "Don't worry," I assured little-L. "I'll be fine. Where's your mother now?"

Ryuuzaki sneered at me, standing up. "Care to repeat that?" I noticed that his eyes were slightly wet in the corners as he clenched and unclenched his fists. "She's dead," he growled. "Like yours, idiot."

Okay, so now he was an angry pre-teen. Apparently even The Great and Powerful L was not immune to teenage hormones. And I thought _my_ timeline was screwed up.

I waited for him to switch again, not bothering to try to answer because I remembered what it was like to be twelve and so, so angry, all the time, at _everything_, for no apparent reason. And even getting angry that you were so _angry._

"Light-kun, we should probably go grocery shopping in the near future," Ryuuzaki informed me suddenly, coming to the bed and sitting down next to me. His weight indented the mattress. "We seem to be out of the disgusting oatmeal of which you are so fond."

"Alright, let me just get dressed," I replied, not moving.

"Get dressed?" he purred, leaning over me. "I don't think I can allow that."

My body forgot for a moment that he had completely lost his mind and attempted to react. I quickly reminded it of the situation and pictured Misa naked, and it promptly went back to where it was supposed to be. "Ryuuzaki, you're killing me," I said.

That seemed to spark a particular memory, because his face took on a definite expression, as if reenacting a specific event.

"A," he said, his voice weighed down with a deep sorrow. He put his hands on the edge of the bed as if it were a casket, looking down at me as if I were a dead body. "I do not understand." He shook his head and swiped at an eye before returning his hand to its previous location. "I did not wish you to be like me. I am... sorry, that I could not communicate that."

It was so vivid that I could see it as if I had been there, and it was haunting to be playing the part of the dead man in L's memories. He leaned down, gently parting A's hair- mine- and kissed me on the forehead. "'Now cracks a noble heart.' Sleep well, child."

Ryuuzaki- present time- turned on his heels and rushed out of the room.

For a long while, I could only sit on the bed, staring after him.

Finally, it occurred to me that he could quite easily hurt himself in the state he was in, and I leaped to my feet, stretching skin that loudly protested the action, to search for him.

The hallway was empty and silent, lit by the reflection of the city lights outside. Only my breath and my footsteps made sound, and there was nothing I could do about them; no way to preserve this stillness. I passed a window that faced a red neon sign and was bathed in blood-red light for about three steps. I would have slowed down to look at the red on my skin, but I had to find L and the Investigation Building was a big place. Everyone else in the tower must have been asleep, although, I realized, only Matsuda, L, Misa, and I actually slept here now. Four people in a building that could easily accommodate twenty. I was sure that that was deeply symbolic, somehow. L would have known how.

I found him, finally, after forty minutes of searching everywhere. Just as I thought the silence would drive me mad, as would the fear of finding him dead, I opened a door to find him crunched up in the corner of an empty, windowless room. Again with the corner.

"Light-kun, come here," he said sharply.

So I came over to him and squatted down next to him. "What?" I asked, although I was pretty sure I didn't want to know.

He crouched, looking very serious, his head for once not cocked and his arms wrapped around his torso. One snaked out and grabbed me by the wrist, hard. I yelped, but thankfully it was my uninjured side. He stared straight ahead, eyes big and expressionless, blank.

Suddenly, he sprang to his feet and was in another corner in a split second, on the floor again.

I was dragged with him, of course, to my complete and utter bewilderment. This was weird, even for a crazy L. He did it a few more times, until I'd finally had enough. I was losing circulation in my hand from how hard he was clutching my wrist.

"What are we doing?" I asked, panting from the sprints, working on getting my feet back under me from the random springing. The man moves fast. You have no idea.

"I am afraid of storms," he said simply.

I blinked at him. "No, you're not." I knew this. It had stormed before, and he hadn't freaked out. Besides, it was completely ridiculous for someone like him to be afraid of something he could explain better than most people who _specialized_ in the area. But something was certainly wrong in his head; he was insane, or something, and I had to remember that so I said, "You're... afraid... of storms?"

He nodded boredly.

...Also it wasn't storming! Ryuuzaki had a way of making me forget the facts.

"Why?"

He shrugged.

"So... um... why are we doing this?"

"It helps me stay calm," he said simply.

I looked more closely at the room around me. It was plain, unadorned, and as empty as I had first thought, except for bare light bulbs hanging from the ceiling.

"Does this room have any other purpose?"

"No. But I assure you this is the best way, and that this room provides a private area in which to indulge in this particular... oddity... of mine. Plus the walls are partially soundproofed, which helps keep my sensation of the sound of the thunder to a minimum. There are also no cameras, so only you, Watari, and I must know that I do this."

But he _didn't_ do this. It had once stormed for three days straight, pre-confinement, and he had often just stared out the window, looking thoughtfully at the lightening-split sky as thunder shook the glass. He simply was _not_ afraid of storms. Normally.

I shook my head, then fell forward when L jumped to his feet, dragging me with him. The sudden resistance toppled him, too, and he promptly landed on his face. He tried to get up, but I bluntly refused to move.

"Light-kun, this is how I deal with my fear. Please do not hinder me."

"Then let go of my wrist and you can do whatever you want," I snapped.

'Thunder' apparently exploded again, and L with it. He scooped me up with his considerable strength, fueled by fear, and ran to yet another corner. He should consider a room with more than four corners. That would almost certainly be more effective.

Finally at rest for a moment, he suddenly noticed that I was in his arms, shrieked, dropped me hard, and ran off like a shot.

* * *

**"As strong as you were, tender you go.**

**I'm watching you breathing for the last time.**

**A song for your heart, but when it is quiet, **

**I know what it means and I'll carry you home.**

**I'll carry you home."**

**-Carry You Home, James Blunt**


	42. Every Ounce, Every Pound

**Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note.**

**A/N: I love writing and I love Death Note, so for me there's just about nothing better in the world than writing about Death Note. If I can be eating chocolate as I do it, then I'm pretty much the happiest camper ever.**

* * *

I hit my tailbone on the way down, clamoring to my feet and hobbling after him. He was out of sight, but he had gone in the direction of our bedroom, so I followed.

I found him sitting, completely calm, on our bed, typing on a laptop.

Exhausted and bruised, I sat on the windowsill in our bedroom on the sill I had noticed the first time I had walked into the room. 'Sitting' was a relative term, however, as the ledge wasn't wide enough to do more than lean.

So I leaned, and I stared out the window at Tokyo. No stars, so much city light. I could barely even see the moon through the light and the smog. Millions of cars, millions _more_ people. Everyone was doing something. There was probably even someone leaning on a windowsill and staring out into the sky, like I was, although I highly doubted they were contemplating anything like I was, at the moment.

I casually glanced out of the corner of my eye at Ryuuzaki where he sat, looking relaxed and content. I sighed and stared back out the window. I wanted to know if it was him or 'someone else,' but I didn't want to shatter the momentary illusion of normality that had suddenly taken hold of him, and of me, and of the room around us.

For the millionth time, I asked myself how I had gotten to where I was.

Had my parents screwed me up somehow? Could I blame them? Maybe they had dropped me on my head as a baby, and it had jolted out of place some vital piece of whatever part of the brain is in charge of 'humanity.' Was it because I grew up with everyone, _everyone_, telling me I was perfect? I knew there was a time I believed I could do no wrong. Had I believed that the Kira idea had to be perfect as well, just because it had been _my_ idea?

And what could I have been, if I _hadn't_ been Kira?

Finally, I had to say it out loud. L and I could not be this close to each other for this long without talking. Afraid of disappointment but desperate for him, I asked, "What if..." and then trailed off, regretting my decision.

But Ryuuzaki looked up from where he perched on the bed with the laptop. "What if, what?"

Relief flooded through me. Good- he was lucid at the moment._ I'd_ gone back to normal after killing someone. Mostly. Maybe he would. But I hadn't had as far to fall; I'd already mostly been a sociopath.

"What if I hadn't gone back for it? If I had just left it and kept... kept walking."

Ryuuzaki looked back down at the screen, fixing his eyes on whatever it was displaying, not blinking. I could tell he wasn't reading whatever he had just written as whomever he had been a moment ago, because his eyes weren't moving across the page. "I suppose," he said finally, his voice almost imperceptible, "that many more criminals would be alive, as would..." He shut his mouth hard and didn't finish. _As would Mello and Near and Watari._

"Do you think we would still have met?" I asked very, very quietly.

"Yes."

Of course. That's what the answer _had _to be. Meeting Ryuuzaki couldn't be a reward for being Kira, it must have been an absolute- something that would have happened no matter what life I had led. Enishi. Unavoidable.

"Do you think we still would have..." I didn't say out loud, _fallen in love,_ "...even if you had never suspected me of being Kira?"

That one, he didn't answer right away. Either he was thinking, or he was hesitating.

"Assuming that someone else had picked up the Death Note and used it exactly as you did, just as intelligently and purposefully... you still would have joined the task force, which would still have existed. I do not know, however, if we would have... as you said. None of this would have happened. There would have been no handcuffs, no forced time together. We would not have clung to each other after watching Texas Chainsaw Massacre. We would not have had an awkward moment that could only be alleviated by you suggesting you were hungry. There would have been no cake as a catalyst... I would not have taken you to Wammy's House, and considering how our relationship evolved there... although if the alternate Kira hadn't killed B in prison, there probably would have been no need. Had B not been killed, C would not have kidnapped Mello and Near, although there is an eighty-six percent probability that B himself would have. I might have still brought you along in that case. So... I do not know. Perhaps other situations would have occurred which would have brought us together."

"That last part sounds a lot like something a romantic would say," I pointed out.

He gave me a small half-smile. "Perhaps."

Silence for a moment, then I whispered, "Do you wish that you had never met me?"

Yes, I was being insecure and clingy. But I was a genius serial killer whose lover was going insane, okay? Social norms didn't apply to this situation anymore.

"I wish that you had never been Kira," he replied, emotionless. Then his voice softened. "And I suppose that life would have been easier had we never met. But there is something to be said for _quality_ of life, as well, and of this I have no doubt: I require you."

Instead of bursting into tears, which is what I _wanted_ to do in response to being told that I was a prerequisite to Ryuuzaki's happiness, I said in a rush, "L, tell me something." I scratched at a particularly crawly part of my skin.

"What do you wish to know?"

"Anything. Before you go away again."

"I am twenty-five years old," he replied immediately. I knew that. "I was born in England, which you know. I enjoy sweets and pastries. I got through the equivalent of high school in six months. My blood type is ABRh-. My birthday is on Halloween. I once received four stitches on my left elbow from a fall in a soccer game. I was seven and, of course, not playing willingly."

I gazed at him, trying to imagine him at seven. I had already seen him at a very pissed-off twelve, but seven was an entirely different- and entirely more adorable- story. It was like your boyfriend's mom showing you pictures of your boyfriend as a baby, except less creepy and awkward.

"Now you," he prompted me.

I spoke up automatically. "When I was fourteen, I bought my mother a kitten for her birthday, but she hit it with her car on accident the next day. Sayu cried."

He smiled, which I thought was kind of sadistic, but this was _L_ we were talking about so I shouldn't have been surprised.

I still wanted to know more. I hadn't gotten enough time with him. Anything less than forever wasn't enough. "Tell me something else?"

"At Wammy's, I shared a room with a boy called Ontario. He despised his name and for many years tried to get everyone to call him Rex."

"I used to grade things for my teachers because I was so bored in class."

"I have never eaten Chinese food in a country other than China."

"By age twelve I'd been asked out by fourteen girls and six guys."

"I once tried to eat a piece of paper because it was advertised as being made from sugar cane as opposed to wood pulp. I wanted to know if it tasted like sugar."

"I hate medical dramas."

"I know American sign language."

"I didn't study for the entrance exam."

"Neither did I."

We smiled at each other.

Yeah, there was no one else for me in the world but him.

"Ryuuzaki, what happens if you go away and don't come back?" I whispered.

"I imagine," he said, "nothing good."

"Can I kiss you?"

"You may."

I got off the ledge and came close to him, gently taking both sides of his face. I slowly brought it to me and kissed him gently, chastely, tenderly.

"No matter what," I said, "I love you." Forehead to forehead with him, I looked him dead in the eyes, which were, for the moment, _his_. And beautiful. So beautiful. "Even if you think I'm Watari and forget everything," I added, "I'll _always_ love you."

"I'm not opposed to the idea of being with you perpetually," he said softly.

As he said it, he left. I saw it in his eyes.

I let go of him. Just in case he didn't remember who I was, I didn't want to freak him out.

His eyes turned huge and he violently shoved himself away from me.

"Light-kun... you're... Kira?" he gasped, horror-struck. "Light-kun... how could you be..."

I could only look at him. I couldn't admit it or deny it; my tongue simply wouldn't move.

He frowned, thinking hard, and then his face went smooth and gently scolding, disguising a laugh. He said in English, "B, you shouldn't dress the cat up like that..."

_That_, I couldn't take. I couldn't be the one that had destroyed him, even if I _was_. I spun on my heels and rushed out of the room. Once in the hallway, I broke down.

Like a good little addict, I thought immediately of the Death Note. I already felt like shit emotionally and physically. Did I need to be nauseous and shaky, too? I didn't want it to be, but another little patch of the Death Note was the answer to me getting through this. I couldn't ask Ryuuzaki to get it for me, in his state, but I was pretty sure it would be fine to just go take a little piece.

I wanted to blame that damn Notebook for all of this, because the Death Note, it corrupts, doesn't it? Absolute power corrupts absolutely, and _that Thing_ was a shining example of all things absolute. It wasn't my fault. It had probably even planted the idea of Kira in my head! My _actions_ were still my fault, but maybe I didn't have to carry _all_ that weight...

I laughed through my tears at the idea, wishing, as I leaned against Ryuuzaki's door, that I could have believed for even one fraction of one moment that I _didn't_ carry every ounce of every pound of sin.

* * *

**"In fields where nothing grew but weeds, **

**I found a flower at my feet, bending there in my direction.**

**I wrapped a hand around its stem and pulled until the roots gave in, **

**Finding there what I've been missing.**

**So I tell myself, I tell myself, it's wrong.**

**There's a point we pass from which we can't return.**

**I felt the cold rain of the coming storm...**

**Inside my hands these petals browned; dried up, falling to the ground, **

**But it was already too late now."**

**-The Good Left Undone, Rise Against**

* * *

**A/N: That windowsill scene was one of the first things I wrote for this fic two years or so ago, when I was still trying to talk myself out of writing it, let alone rewriting it!**


	43. Nail Gun

**Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note.**

**A/N: Please read the author's note at the end of this chapter after you finish! I'd put it up here, but it contains a spoiler for this chapter so I can't. But please do read it before you decide to stop reading this fic because of this chapter's contents.**

* * *

Despite all that, I didn't know where the Death Note was. Thoroughly depressed, I slumped my way to L's desk downstairs. The chaos was, for the first time in my life, comforting. Because it was _his_, and right now, it was all of _him_ that I had. The pens strewn all over the place, the papers clearly not in any kind of order... I wondered how he could be so efficient in such a mess, but that was just one of the many things about him that defied reason. Both Sophocles and Plato would have had a fit.

In a burst of passion or rage or some other strong emotion, I swiped my arm over my own desk, scattering everything across the table and the room. It clattered to the ground with a satisfying racket, the likes of which I had never purposely created before. Even as a child, I had been hyper-organized and polite.

I stared at the mess, fighting the overwhelming desire to put it all back where it belonged. To re-alphabetize anything that had letters on it.

But no. I refused to. I didn't know why, but I knew that I absolutely _could not_. Giving in would just prove something about me that I didn't want to be true. That, and I just plain didn't want to be like that anymore. I could be the kind of person with normal, healthy levels of organization. The kind of person that might not get around to cleaning this kind of thing up for _days_. The kind of person who, as a child, hadn't refused to finger-paint, and whose parents hadn't had to teach him to climb on the bags of mulch they sell at home-improvement stores.

Or maybe, I thought as I picked up the pens, grouping them by color, I didn't have a chance.

Suddenly my phone vibrated, startling me out of my well-deserved self-deprecating thoughts. I fished it out of my pocket with two fingers, smiling a little, and flipped it open, expecting it to be L.

But my phone didn't recognize the number and neither did I. I opened the message and my eyes went wide when I read it. Just one word:

_'God?'_

I dropped the phone and stumbled back as far away as I could get.

I stared at where it lay on the floor, blinking peacefully. Was it a prank? A coincidence? It had to be. Someone had to have just texted a random number with that message and _happened _to get Kira. But, in all seriousness, what were the odds of that? L would know.

I understood instantly that I should tell him about this- assuming he was himself, of course- so I picked up my phone and full-out ran to our bedroom.

Empty. He wasn't there.

I ran to the room that contained one of his other desks and sighed with relief at the sight of him resting his head on the wood, face pressed into the mess that was present on this table, too. The smell of sawdust assaulted me, and I remembered that Watari had been renovating this room to fit a desk for me in a place that would be compatible with handcuffs. With a little luck, L would be lucid now. I really needed him- I was too freaked out to handle this on my own at the moment, because the thought was haunting me... what if it was someone who knew? And someone who really, truly thought that Kira was a god? What if he was the first of what I had once imagined as a crowd of worshippers? And he _had_ to be smart, because he had found me. At least smart enough to find someone he could _suspect_. That was no more than anyone else had done, but still.

Anyway, it was probably just a prank, right?

"Ryuuzaki, I just got this text message..." I said, doing my best to remain calm, walking towards him. Closer to him, I smiled despite my worry. He was cute as always when he slept, resting quietly, the hum of the computer the only sound in the small, dusty room.

I reached out and stroked his hair.

Sound sleeper; he still hadn't moved.

I let my hand slip to his shoulder and squeeze it. "Hey. I'm sorry to wake you, but this could be urgent." I shook him. "Ryuuzaki?"

Nothing.

Panic made my voice shoot up at least half an octave, and my shaking of him became more and more forceful. "Ryuuzaki? L? _L! You answer me right now!_"

I whirled him around in the chair to face me. His head slumped forward, limp.

I shook him violently, tears invading my eyes and voice. "Lawliet! Answer me!"

In my hysterics, it finally occurred to me to check for a pulse. I checked it four times in every place I knew of at which one could take a pulse.

Nothing.

He had no heartbeat.

L was dead.

Why? Why was he dead? How could he be dead? There was nothing wrong with him! He looked perfectly okay... poison would have meant foam or something, knives or guns would have meant blood... strangulation would have meant bruises... and there wasn't a mark on him!

...Except for a small trickle of blood that was just then creeping down his face towards his lips...

Frantic, I pushed back his hair and found, of all things, a nail. Right up to the hilt. Right through his frontal lobe. Right where I had shot C.

I noticed that the computer was off.

It wasn't the computer that was making that sound.

I followed Ryuuzaki's lifeless fingers and found a nail gun, plugged in, still humming cheerfully.

Watari had been renovating... probably in order to make room for a desk for me, as well, since L and I had been handcuffed together. He must have left the nail gun there temporarily, knowing L wasn't stupid enough to hurt himself with it, not knowing that he wouldn't survive to clean it up...

Had L killed himself?

Well, obviously.

But had he done it on _purpose?_

It couldn't have been suicide. _My_ L wouldn't have done it on purpose, no matter what. That was simply a fact. He would never have left me intentionally. But maybe one of the "others" of him would... or had done it on accident...

This was my fault too. Not only was Watari _renovating_ because of me, but it had been left there because Rem had killed Watari, which only happened because I exist.

All of it was my fault. Everything was my fault. And all because of a fucking black notebook and an egomaniac.

I collected him and carried him to the floor, where I fumbled him into my arms. I buried my face in his hair (and he still smelled like him, oh) and wept.

I'd assumed that he wouldn't die unless I killed him. It had never, even for a moment, occurred to me that he was just as human as I was and could just _die_ like this. That he could just go and die on me, and be gone, but gone in a way that was a hundred times worse than when he'd been fourteen again or thought I was his father. Because there was no hope, not with _this_ kind of gone. I would never see those beautiful, big, blank eyes again. Never watch his expression crack again. Never see him eat another sweet and get to laugh at the face he made- incidentally a remarkably similar face to the one he made when he was having an orgasm. Never meet his gaze again and know what he was thinking. Never hold him again, and never _be_ held by him again. Never have to try to talk him into wearing something appropriately formal again. Never have to fight off his advancement as he held a stick of eyeliner. Never get dragged to another gay bar. Never tell him, half-asleep, that I loved him.

Never again, never again, never again.

"L," I said wetly, "We were supposed to be together forever."

But, according to Ryuuzaki himself, nothing lasts forever.

I had no more tears, but I kept sobbing, dry, rocking myself and the body of the one I loved, cradling him.

I don't know how much time passed. It was probably hours because I went undisturbed for a long time, with how rare it was for other investigation members to come into L's private office, especially considering the time of night.

Finally, as the sun was rising, there was a knock on the door. The person didn't pause, instead bursting right in.

I looked up through tear-blurred eyes and vaguely made out the forms of my father and Matsuda. "Light," my father said in his Officer Voice. "We heard you-"

They froze, their eyes huge, and I couldn't blame them. It's not every day you walk in to see Light Yagami sobbing hysterically, clinging to the dead body of the world's three greatest detectives, on the floor, rocking back and forth.

"Light?" My father recovered first, rushing towards me and wrapping his arms around me from behind. His unshaven face was rough against the skin of my neck, and he smelled like suit fabric. He held me tight, and I thought he was saying something, but I didn't hear or care to.

"W-what happened?" Matsuda stuttered, staring at L.

I knew I wouldn't be able to answer, so I didn't bother trying. Plus, I could never explain to them that he'd been killed by B, the Death Note, and L. They would never be able to understand, especially the 'L' part.

And all because of me. Because of Kira. If I hadn't gone back for the notebook...

The Death Note is absolute.

So I just shook my head, my sobs dry, and held Ryuuzaki's body closer to me. It was so cold. He had been cool before, but never _this_ cold. I remembered thinking when I first met him that he looked like a dead body. I'd been wrong. But how could I have known that it would end up like this?

I was in a daze, and all I knew was that someone was trying to take L away from me. I let go without much of a fight. The sharp brilliance, the mischievousness, the self-control was all gone. There was no reason to cling to a Ryuuzaki-shaped mass of dead flesh.

No reason for anything.

So when I was led to our- _my_- room, I didn't protest. When my father sat me on my bed, I didn't fight it. When he tried to console me, I didn't say a word. When they finally left me alone, assuring me they'd be right back, I didn't care at all.

Nothing mattered, now.

Nothing.

* * *

**"What have I become? My sweetest friend... **

**Everyone I know goes away in the end.  
**

**And you could have it all, my empire of dirt- **

**I will let you down. I will make you hurt.**

**I wear this crown of thorns upon my liar's chair, **

**Full of broken thoughts I cannot repair.  
**

**Beneath the stains of time the feelings disappear.**

**You are someone else; I am still right here.**

**If I could start again, a million miles away, **

**I would keep myself... I would find a way."**

**-Hurt, Johnny Cash**

* * *

**A/N: Yes, L is dead. However, I wouldn't recommend you stop reading because of that, because this isn't the last you're going to see of him.**


	44. Attend the Tale

**Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note.**

* * *

To the surprise of hopefully no one, I did not sleep that night.

My father stuck his head into my room several times, probably to make sure I hadn't jumped out the window or something. He was right to be concerned, because from the moment I knew L was dead I had considered it more than once. _Many _more times than once. I'd even thought of all the different ways I could make it happen.

But no. I didn't even bother closing my eyes. Instead, I simply lay there, wide-awake, on my stomach with my face buried in L's pillow. It still smelled like him. I wanted to pull away, because it _hurt_, but I couldn't. I was probably hyperventilating, because I couldn't even bear to exhale for long before I would slowly breathe back in, inhaling as much of the scent as I could...

I was beyond tears. I hadn't had anything to drink, and there simply wasn't enough fluid in me anymore to create the necessary liquid. For a moment, the bright idea of calling Matt flashed through my mind. It was stupid on several levels. Mostly because I didn't know his phone number, but also because, even if I did, I didn't deserve to be comforted.

All my fault, all my fault.

And, almost as if to spite me, the withdrawal was getting worse.

I reached for the little patch where I had attached it on my leg. It was still there. Yep, it was just flat-out getting worse.

I stood up, inexplicably furious. There was no reason to put up with the damn withdrawal symptoms. Like I didn't hurt enough? Like I needed another thing to think about, when my mind was already spinning? And as my _head_ was already spinning?

I fell weakly back onto the bed, clutching my skull, and took a few deep breaths, but the pain didn't lessen.

What was I thinking? I deserved every moment of this.

I swore to myself that I wouldn't give in as I got up and stumbled down the hallway, to where I suspected he had stashed it.

Just like I had thought. Just like with those pens, I didn't have a chance. I couldn't change.

I just couldn't.

And I just wanted the pain to stop. If not all of it (because I didn't want to forget him, no), at least the physical pain.

I found it without too much trouble, knowing the way L thought. It was right where I had guessed it would be, in the second-best hiding place in the Building. It would have been too obvious to hide it in the _best_ place.

The fact that I knew him well enough to figure this out made my eyes sting.

My stomach heaved but I managed to not vomit. Screw it. I'd had enough of feeling like this. Wasn't it bad enough that my _emotions_ were like this? I had lost the one I loved. Wasn't that enough? Did I need to feel like crap _physically_, too?

Did I deserve it? Yes. But I didn't _need_ it.

I picked up the notebook.

I felt instantly better; even the pain of the stitched-up cuts on my back was diminished. Addiction is a fascinating thing. Okay. I was just going to tear off a tiny piece and tape it to myself...

Relieved but uneasy, I flipped through the simple, sleek black notebook.

So many names. And most of them were written by me. So many names, so many faces, so many deaths.

And the beginning of my own name.

For a moment, I considered finishing the last five and a half letters. It would be so easy. Cross the 'T.' Then a Y... a... g... a... m... i...

Just some letters, and then... nothing. Ever again. Maybe I'd see him, although I doubted it. Mu, right? Nothingness?

That sounded pretty good at the moment.

And there was always the _chance_... the _possibility_, not offered in this world, that I would see him again...

No. I couldn't write my name. I'd told him I wouldn't do it, so I wouldn't.

No, I couldn't write my _own_ name... but _other_ people's...

Didn't we all deserve death? I would still be killing criminals, but I was starting to realize that the _innocent_ deserved it as a _reward_. Because this life...

Well, it was certainly nothing worth preserving.

And I could fix it. I could fix it all, everything I had done. I couldn't take it back, obviously, but I could fix it. Make it not matter. If I could kill everyone, I could erase all the pain of lost loved ones that I had caused. I could finally, finally do what was right.

It was so simple that I couldn't believe I'd never thought of it before. Couldn't believe that L and I hadn't come up with it together.

I found myself laughing.

It was so simple.

All I had to do was kill_ everyone_.

I laughed harder. Seriously! How could I have never thought of that? I'd had it wrong all along. Killing criminals to protect the innocent? Criminals deserved to die, yes, but the _innocent_ deserved to _not have to live_! It was perfect!

I almost didn't bother getting a pen, but I knew that, as symbolic as it would be, writing in my own blood wouldn't be energy-efficient. I ran to my desk, grabbing a pen from my orderly piles, and immediately got online. Got on MyFace.

It was too easy. Kira hadn't gained enough attention to make people delete their profiles yet, and _so_ many people used their real names and faces online...

I stayed up all night. Social websites, group photos of clubs or companies online. School websites. Anything I could find that had a name and a face. Men, women, children, old people, sick people. Anyone. They'd all be dead before anyone could even notice that thousands of people had died in one night, all over the world.

A gravelly, all-too-familiar voice sounded from behind me. "_Very _interesting."

It was the Shinigami with the boredom complex.

"Where have you been, Ryuk?" I asked, not pausing in my writing.

"Watching Beyond Birthday. He was interesting too. Then you got the Notebook, but I wasn't obligated to follow you right away. You've been very boring lately, Light. I didn't know you'd be using it like this when I got back or I would have come sooner." He chuckled.

I was barely listening, focusing more on the faces I had to have in my mind as I wrote the names. There was a certain place you had to hold the image in to be able to think about their face and write their name at the same time, and I was a bit out of practice getting my brain there.

"So, Light," Ryuk continued unprompted. I already knew what he was going to ask. I'd have to look for a human he loved or something... the monster needed to die... "Looks like you finally managed to kill L."

I only managed to not scream at him because I had predicted those exact words. But it still hurt.

"I was hanging out with L in that glass room. Saw Birthday torturing you. I gotta say, Light, I got a certain enjoyment out of it."

"That's nice," I sneered, flourishing the ending of another name.

"He seems to think you loved him. And he _definitely_ loved _you_. I mean, I may not know much about humans, but you should have seen him up there... pacing... crying... shouting at me, asking what to do... Well, I suggested he kill you, of course. If looks could kill, huh? I guess he was just like a Shinigami too. He killed someone to extend the life of a human he loved, and then died himself."

Only extreme self-control allowed me to refrain from snapping my pen right in half. I took a deep breath and kept writing, channeling all my anger and hurt and love into those words, knowing I was finally doing the right thing.

"So, anyway, are you gonna make Misa trade for the eyes again?" he asked.

"No."

"Why? Don't tell me you _care_ about her since last time I checked."

I almost laughed at that one. "Hardly. I just don't need the eyes, and I _don't_ need her climbing all over me."

"Those eyes could get you out of a life or death situation," he reminded me.

"Another reason not to make her get them," I mumbled.

I jerked my head up to check Ryuk's expression, but luckily he hadn't heard me.

"Well, whatever. I don't really care, anyway." He drifted away, shouting something about apples, which I ignored.

I was exhausted, but I kept writing. In my head, instead of 'Kira,' the name that was developing was 'Mercy.' No one was beneath this, I started to see as I wrote more and more names. Even evil people deserved this mercy.

I tried giving someone an infectious disease- that might not count under the subsequent deaths rule and it may still work. It was worth a shot. Disease was the only thing that could kill more people than I could.

Laughing and crying, I transferred myself to my room. Our room. It was almost morning, and the others would be waking up soon. I wanted to be caught eventually and killed (I would be executed if I was caught, period. Law would go out the window), but not yet. I still had more people to free.

I didn't sleep. I didn't need to. My father knocked on my door and I told him to go away. The tears/hysterics in my voice must have made him think I was breaking down about Ryuuzaki (which I was, in a way), so he left me alone.

Ryuuzaki wouldn't have. He would have known that leaving me alone was the exact wrong thing to do. He would have handcuffed me to him again. My father couldn't be expected to know- I'd never let him get close.

This, too, was my fault.

Sobbing now (apparently I had a reserve of tears in there somewhere), I kept writing. I was killing so many people, drenching my soul with blood as L's clothes had been stained red when he carried a lifeless Mello back to Wammy's. I had gotten to hold him that night, I remembered, but he was dead now. Because of me. _For_ me. No. No.

If I was going to Mu, I might as well do it thoroughly. And take all these people with me. If _everyone_ was dead, then _no_ one would have to be alone.

It was the only way to atone.

And at ten in the afternoon, when I finally paused, I picked up my phone and replied to the unknown text:

_'Yes.'_

* * *

**"There's a hole in the world like a great black pit, **

**And it's filled with people who are filled with shit,**

**And the vermin of the world inhabit it.**

**But not for long...**

**We all deserve to die.**

**Tell you why, Mrs. Lovett, tell you why.**

**Because the lives of the wicked should be made brief, **

**For the rest of us death will be a relief.**

**We all deserve to die."**

**-Epiphany, Sweeney Todd**


	45. You Still Look Like a Panda

**Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note.**

**A/N: I think it can be fairly said that Light did not take L's death at ALL well.**

* * *

The reply to my text message was almost immediate. This guy had been sitting by his phone, waiting for me to reply. He had sent it _hours_ ago.

_'Tell me what to do.'_

I considered, but only for a short moment. _'I want to meet.'_

_'Where?'_ Again, it was almost instantaneous. This guy wasn't messing around. Agreeing to meet someone he thought was Kira? Was he suicidal?

_'Are you in Japan?'_

_'Yes. Tokyo.'_

That was convenient. I told him the name of a hotel, and to leave immediately. He agreed instantly, and said it would take him an hour to get there.

_'Fine,'_ I replied. _'How will I know it's you?'_

He didn't reply to this one as quickly. He was probably confused as to how his god could _possibly_ not be omniscient.

_'I'll be in the lobby, sitting on the couches, and I'll be holding a book called _Prosecution Attorney_.'_

_'All right. One hour.'_

My heart was like a hammer in my chest, and I was pretty sure my ribs were going to explode. It would take me about an hour and a half to get there- plenty of time for him to sweat, to wait for me...

_'God?' _He texted me again several minutes later as I was getting a coat on, in no particular hurry.

_'What?'_

_'How will _I_ know _you?_'_

_'I will approach you and say, "Shall we?_"'

_'As you say.'_

I wished that his clearly mindless devotion could make me happy. It would have made me happy _before_ L, but now it was just a side effect of a curse that had ruined my life and destroyed everything that I had ever cared for. And it was hard to get excited about that.

As an afterthought, I made a reservation at the hotel so that we'd have a room to talk, should the need arise.

I hailed a cab and sat shotgun because I knew I wouldn't be able to tolerate sitting in the back of a cab without Ryuuzaki there next to me. The driver didn't seem to care, and tried to make small talk for a while, which I returned half-heartedly. I would kill him later, now that I knew his name and face. It was only fair- he seemed like a nice enough guy.

He dropped me off in front of the hotel I had specified.

I took a deep, fortifying breath, sucking air down all the way to my toes. (Not literally, of course.) If this guy was a psycho, I could always just run away or alert hotel security. I would definitely appear innocent in such a situation: some random guy just starts screaming "GOD!" at the top of his lungs, and who are you going to believe?

The advantage of going was that he may be useful. Either way, though, he was interesting.

I walked confidently into the elegant hotel, casting about for someone reading while seated on one of the many couches. There were a few people. One was a woman, young, flipping through what looked like a copy of _Lysistrata_. That was an interesting choice of literature, but she was definitely not my worshipper. There was an old man who I suspected for a moment, but he turned out to be reading a porno (guy on guy, I noticed as I walked by, and I caught the words 'quivering entrance'), tucked into a popular news magazine.

And then... there.

I walked up to him, casually, and held out a hand. He looked up from his leather-bound book, reading clearly, _Prosecuting Attorney_. He looked up cautiously but hopefully and stood, and shook my hand.

"Shall we?" I asked lightly.

To his credit, the man stayed quite calm. "Yes, sir. Where would you like to go?"

"I've made a reservation for room 7102," I answered. "Let's discuss this there."

"Yes..." he let his voice trail off.

"Ryuuzaki," I supplied without thinking. That was a mistake, because it felt like a stab. And I _knew_ what it felt like to be stabbed, so I wasn't just saying that.

"Ryuuzaki-sama," he replied politely, and bowed.

I nodded dismissively and then swept to the elevators, pausing only to check in and get the key to the room.

The man followed me like a puppy.

In the elevator was the first time I really got a chance to look at him closely.

Out of respect, he wasn't standing near me and he looked at the floor, both allowing me to stare at him and giving him a kind of slumped posture. He was wearing a suit and tie, his hands shoved deep into his suit pants. He had done his best to tame his wild, dark hair.

He removed his rectangular glasses to clean them on his shirt, revealing dark eyes... and he held the lenses up to the light between two fingers...

"What's your name?" I croaked. I coughed to clear my throat, then repeated more confidently, "What is your name?"

"Mikami Teru, Ryuuzaki-sama," he replied instantly.

I took a deep breath. Of course he wasn't L. He barely even looked like him... it was silly, really, for me to even be thinking such things.

I shook it off and we didn't say another word until we were securely in our room.

"God... what do you want me to do?" he asked in a low voice.

"First, I'll need some proof of your identity. And remember, I can kill you if you lie to me."

He produced a Japanese driver's license without any form of complaint. I could see in his eyes and body movement that he wasn't lying. He was Teru Mikami, and he wasn't a cop, and he really did worship Kira.

"All right. I believe you. Now..."

I sat down on a hard, red armchair that resided in the corner nearest the door. I could easily make my escape from here. Plus, I had left the door unlocked for an easy getaway. There was no reason for anyone to walk into this room, so it was safe. It was more probable that he would attack me than it was that someone would randomly enter the room.

He stared at me, enraptured.

"Up until now," I explained, "I have killed criminals. I am sure you have gathered this; since you were skilled enough to find me, you are surely intelligent enough to find such a simple connection."

He was still watching my every move. It reminded me of Misa.

"I have not killed criminals who have already done their time in prison, or criminals who had acted out of passion or with justifiable cause. I have not killed criminals who truly regretted their crimes, or who I was confident would never repeat them."

He nodded.

"But lately, I have realized my mistake." He frowned a little, but his attention didn't waver. "Lately, I have realized that death is not a punishment. It is a reward." His frown deepened. "And I have come to realize that I did not value life correctly. That, just because someone is a criminal, does not mean they should be punished."

I didn't think I'd ever seen such a frown.

"I realize now- we all deserve death. All of us, whatever age, gender, race, creed, sexuality, or criminal record. We are all people, and the only _true_ fairness, the only _true_ justice... is to obliterate everyone."

Something I said clicked in his brain, and his frown turned into a look of a new level of respect.

He knelt down in front of me and bowed his head. "You are a merciful god," he said solemnly. "You speak of the apocalypse. I will do whatever you ask."

I leaned back in my seat, satisfied. "Good," I said. "Stand up, and don't bow to me again."

"Whatever you want," he said simply and with zero sarcasm, and straightened up.

I watched him as he absently moved to scratch his chin, taking a seat on the edge of one of the beds.

The motion, so simple, so benign, did something to me... because, this person who looked _so much like L..._ for all the world... it looked like he had just put his thumb to his lip...

He tilted his head, gazing around the room...

I choked and my hands clenched on the arms of the chair. I blinked hard, trying to get him to stop looking like L, but no matter what I did I couldn't see him any other way.

Was I really so broken?

"God?" he asked, genuine concern in his voice.

For some reason, all I heard was '_Light-kun?'_

I jumped to my feet, tossed one of the room keys onto the bed for him, and mumbled some excuse as I dashed out the door.

I ran hard, not taking the elevator and choosing instead to brave all seven flights of stairs, my lungs burning and threatening to burst but receiving no pity from any other part of me. My heart beat hard in my chest. That wasn't fair. That damn organ. Why was it still beating in_ me_, when I was the last person I wanted alive?

I ran until there was no one near me, out the hotel, down the street, and into an alley, and then pulled out the Death Note. I wrote Teru Mikami's name. I could tell he'd been a good person, once. My fault. I wrote my cab driver's name, like I'd said I would. I wrote Kiyomi Takada's name, the girl I had dated in college. I wrote Hitoshi Demegawa's name, that annoying Sakura TV guy. I wrote the name of that clingy girl I had taken to Spaceland, or _almost _taken to Spaceland, anyway. I wrote any name from the newspaper crumpled at my feet that had a correlating picture to use.

Because we all deserved this.

I knew I'd never be able to take the whole world with me... but damn it, I could take a few thousand. No one should ever have to feel like this. And I'd only been _feeling_ for a few months! What must it be like to be a normal, mentally stable person, who has had to _grow_ _up_ feeling things?

I wrote until I ran out of names.

I hailed another cab and, without thinking, sat in a little heap in the backseat. I closed my eyes and for a moment he was there beside me. For a moment, it was as if his arms were around me again.

_Unfortunately, no photographs of me exist, adolescent or otherwise. If they did, I would be glad to show them to you. I am told I looked rather like a panda._

_You still look like a panda._

_I do not._

_Yes you do. Have you ever _seen_ a panda? I'm Japanese. I know my pandas._

_I am aware of the physical attributes of a panda, Light-kun. I am also remarkably intelligent. If there were any similarities between myself and such a creature, I am sure I would have noticed them._

_Dark around the eyes._

_That is not enough to say that I look like a panda._

_Black and white._

_..._

_Have you ever seen a panda stand up straight? I haven't._

_Very well! I capitulate._

...Damn my memory! Why did I have to remember every word... every facial expression, every turn of every phrase...

I pounded on my forehead with my fist, earning, I'm sure, concerned looks from the cab driver. I ignored him completely except to memorize his name and face from off his ID.

_Ryuuzaki, what am I gonna do?_

I squeezed my eyes tighter shut, imagining him there. Finally something clicked and I could almost see him in my mind's eye.

_I cannot answer that, Light._

_But you _know_ the answer, don't you?_

_I cannot answer that, either._

_How am I supposed to deal with this? How does anyone deal with this?_

_I don't know._

_I'm not the first one to have loved someone. People lose their loved ones all the time. Every day._

_Yes._

_And they keep going._

_Yes._

_Does it... ever _stop?

_Light, you are alive. I can't know._

_Does it hurt to die?_

_No._

I opened my eyes, almost expecting him to be sitting next to me, holding my hand.

He wasn't, of course. And the feeling of his arms around me was fading fast.

The cab stopped to let me out and I fumbled some money to the driver, thanking him at a hoarse whisper. He called out after me, "Are you-" but I ignored him, moving at a stumbling run to the Building.

* * *

**"How I wish I could walk through the doors of my mind,**

**Hold memory close at hand.**

**Help me understand the years.**

**How I wish I could choose between Heaven and Hell.**

**How I wish I would save my soul-**

**I'm so cold from fear."**

**-Tears and Rain, James Blunt**

* * *

**A/N: That wasn't the L-reappearance that I was talking about, by the way. :)**


	46. Roleplaying

**Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note.**

**A/N: Thanks for reading!**

* * *

I staggered into the building and, somehow, directly into Misa. She caught me and held me up as my knees finally gave out.

"Light?" she asked, concerned and alarmed. "Light, what _happened_?"

I couldn't respond. I was busy weeping again.

She had never seen me freak out quite this badly before- I had never _let_ her see it. Also, I'd never freaked out this badly before I had loved L.

Her arms were surprisingly strong as she lowered us to the floor, in the middle of the room, completely unabashed. I had forgotten what it was like for PDA with your lover to be socially acceptable. "What's wrong?" she asked me gently. She moved a damp lock of hair from my eye.

There was nothing I could possibly explain to her. That I was broken because I had killed so many people, when she didn't remember I was Kira? That I was sobbing because the love of my life had died, when she thought I was _hers_? I just shook my head.

"Light, what can I do?" she whispered, petting my hair. "What do you need? You know I'll do anything for you."

Anything? Could she bring people back from the dead? Could she take back the past? Could she make me _not_ an arrogant bastard?

I didn't even notice that she had drawn me to my feet and was leading me to her bedroom so that I wouldn't be crying in front of the rest of the team, if they happened upon the entrance area. She was such a good girl. How did she end up with _me_? I wondered briefly what life would have been like if I'd met her before Kira, if I had loved her, but I couldn't get the idea of that possible life past a sketchy image of her standing next to me. Even in the hypothetical, there was only L.

She sat me down on her couch.

"You loved him, didn't you?" she asked me quietly, sitting next to me and tenderly taking my hand.

I was so surprised that I actually stopped crying. "What?"

"Ryuuzaki. You loved him." She looked at me steadily, unflinchingly. It wasn't a question. She _knew_.

I nodded dumbly.

"I'm not _completely_ stupid," she continued gently. "And I love you, so I notice everything about you. How could you possibly believe I wouldn't notice something as important as the one you _love_?"

I couldn't reply.

"I know that you're Kira, too," she added.

I jerked my head up sharply, my mind already reeling with ways I could kill her...

"Don't worry, though. I love that too. Everything, Light. No matter what you do. _Or_ who you love." She kissed me gently on the forehead. "No matter what."

I'd said the same thing to L.

Poor girl.

I found myself bawling again, and I couldn't stop myself from saying what I was thinking. "I miss him so much," I gasped out. "I miss him... so much... that it's like I can't breathe. Even more than it hurts to have lost him. I _miss_ him."

She looked at me for a long moment.

"Give me fifteen minutes."

I nodded confusedly, for once having no idea what the usually-predictable girl was going to do.

As she padded away and I watched her go, I tried not to think about the circumstances that had gotten her this room because, of course, they led back to L. Like everything else in my life seemed to. How much time had he spent picking out what should be in this room? Evaluating in what way everything could be used for some dramatic escape... making sure there were no blind spots anywhere... walking around this room, his thumb to his lip, thinking.

...And then Ryuuzaki stepped through the door that Misa had walked into only fifteen minutes before.

I sprang to my feet. "Re-" I blinked a few times, but the illusion stayed. Pale as death, dark circles around dark eyes, white shirt, baggy jeans, bare feet, impossibly slumped over... it was L. His _hair_ was slightly longer but it was styled right and it was black and...

He walked closer to me, but I was frozen in place. Without a word, he began to work the buttons of my shirt, one by one until he was able to slip it off my shoulders. It fell behind me with a soft sound.

He reached out and touched my lips, letting his long fingers trace lightly down my neck to my chest, to glide down to my beltline. A smile crossed his features as he playfully tugged at my zipper, dragging it down. I was completely naked only a few moments later and he kissed me.

Every nerve ending in the top part of my body burst into life. My head swam, my eyes blurred, my skin tingled where he was touching me. Softly, sweetly, he took my hand and pulled.

Between my love, my lust, and my confusion, my brain was threatening to explode. It simply didn't make sense. L was dead, but here he was. Was this necrophilia? Misa was in the bathroom, not at _all_ far away, and wouldn't _that_ be awkward... she might be okay with me loving L, but how would she feel about me having sex with his dead body? _That_ would be one seriously tolerant girlfriend.

But he was so very much alive... warm... _moving_... breathing... blinking... his blood moving through his veins... his heart... beating...

I was too confused to truly stop and consider what was so very obviously happening here, and I didn't think to resist. I would have been content to just hold him. Apparently, though, he wanted more, tugging insistently on my hand. And I had learned that when Ryuuzaki wanted something, you did what he said.

"How about I'm on bottom tonight," he whispered.

If I wasn't already hard enough to hunt with it, I would have been at the sound of those words. His voice was different, but I no longer cared. I nodded dumbly and L slipped onto the bed, lay on his stomach propped himself up on an arm, and did something he'd never done before. "Take me, then," he said tantalizingly.

My mind went blank as I stumbled over to him, getting on top of him and all but literally ripping off the white shirt, jeans, and boxers I knew so, so well and that were so, so welcome. He seemed to have some sort of ACE bandage-like wrap over the top of his chest, but I ignored it, kissing him everywhere I could reach. "_Shit_ I've missed you..." I breathed, tracing his thin body with my hands. It wasn't as hard as I remembered it being, but I'd never been in it for his (admittedly excellent) body. He was there. Somehow, he was there.

He was shaking underneath me, whether in anticipation or passion I didn't know, but I loved it.

"I missed you, too," he replied monotonously but not insincerely. He reached for my hand and put two of my fingers in his mouth.

"Can I..." I panted.

"Yes."

I lost control and pushed in with a sound of effort. It was painful, as it always was, but it was also something I'd missed so badly. I worked above him, but as hard as I tried I just could not hit the man's prostate to make him scream in that way I so loved to hear.

"I... I'm about to..." he gasped beneath my legs, and then let out a cry unlike any I had ever heard from him before. The sound was enough to push me over the edge, and I came deep inside him with an exclamation of my own.

I pulled out and let myself fall next to him. L turned around and nuzzled into me, kissing me on the neck. I held him close- it had been so long, I'd missed him so much, and right now I didn't have any words for him. That was okay; we had spoken with our bodies. Right now, _everything_ was okay. Ryuuzaki was mysteriously in my arms again, loving me, and that was all I cared about. I could feel the love radiating from the man I held.

I kissed him gently, and with a sigh I drifted off to the most peaceful sleep I had had since I'd become Kira.

* * *

Misa relaxed into his arms. She had done well, she knew. Of course, she hadn't gotten a lot out of it for herself, as good as he had proven to be at anal, but that was secondary.

Honestly, the idea of her boyfriend (but he wasn't really hers, was he?) having sex with men was kind of turning her on... she always _had_ liked that kind of thing...

She did her best to ignore the throbbing need between her own legs, burrowed into his perfect, sweat-beaded chest a little more, and fell asleep with him.

* * *

I woke up at six o'clock in the morning, Misa was still clasped in my arms, breathing lightly. The temporary spray dye in her hair was starting to come off onto the pillow and onto parts of me that were touching it. Her heavy, skillfully-applied eyeliner was streaked down her face from her sweat. The wrap around her breasts was slipping, revealing a round, pink nipple.

A small sob escaped me. Her eyes fluttered open. "Good morning, Light," she said sleepily in her soprano. I kissed her on the forehead so that she couldn't see my tears.

"Good morning," I whispered. "I, um... I'm sorry, Misa."

She smiled at me and shook her head slightly, her blond hair curling on her pillow. "It was my idea. And my _choice_. I saw you- for a minute, you didn't hurt. It doesn't matter if it was me or Ryuuzaki, as long as someone is making you smile." She moved as if to kiss me, and then thought better of it. "I told you when we first met that you could use me," she finished. "I'll do anything for you."

"I'm still sorry."

She gave me the most emotionally diverse half-smile I'd ever seen."Okay, Light."

"...Bye, Misa."

She smiled again as her eyes began to close. "Don't say it back, but... I love you, Light Yagami."

Holding my breath to prevent another sob, my lips twitching, I left the room. I was glad that my clothes were in the front room so that I could get dressed with less danger of Misa seeing me break down. I hastily pulled on my clothes and practically ran out of the room.

I managed to make it all the way to my own room- the room I had shared with Ryuuzaki- and into the bathroom that was connected. I wrenched on the hot water of the shower. The moment it was warm I threw myself under the stream and could hold it in no longer.

I gasped out a shuddering sob and sank slowly to my knees on the porcelain. The hot water scalded the top of my head and my back, trickling over my face, but I couldn't have cared less. In fact, I was grateful for the sound of the water that would serve to partially cover up the sounds of my tears.

I had known, in my heart, that she wasn't Ryuuzaki. I loved him- I would have been able to tell if I was blind and deaf- but she had looked enough like him that I had been able to let my desperate mind convince me that she _was_. I knew Ryuuzaki was dead, knew he wasn't coming back, knew that Misa wasn't him. I knew all of it, and sobs racked my thin frame and tears mixed with the shower water.

Finally, the tears began to slow, and, exhausted, I dragged a towel over myself a few times and staggered to my bed, onto which I fell face-first and into a frantic, nightmarish sleep. The pillow still smelled like Ryuuzaki.

_He was under L this time, although it varied. He was on his back, his legs wrapped around him, and L was pushing into him hard, forcing their bodies closer than it was physically possible for them to truly be. Light heard a gasped 'I love you' although he didn't know who was saying it, but it didn't really matter because he heard the other person say it back. It was a particularly hot night, their window was open but it wasn't helping, they were sweatier than they should have been and sticking to everything- the bed, each other. They talked very little, and the only sounds were gasps and grunts and the creak of overworked bed springs as they made love in the darkened room._

_And then Light was walking into L's office, and L was face down, a thin trickle of blood slipping down his forehead, and his laptop hummed in the quiet._

I awoke with a scream, a hard-on from the unfinished sex dream, tears on my cheeks from the reliving of the death of the one I loved, and an idea.

* * *

**"Empty spaces fill me up with holes.**

**Distant faces with no place left to go.**

**Without you, within me, I can't find no rest.**

**Where I'm going is anybody's guess..."**

**-Incomplete, Backstreet Boys**

* * *

**A/N: That wasn't the final re-appearance of L that I mentioned.**

**In this chapter, I was trying to say several things- that Misa loves Light, that Light misses L to the point where his mind is breaking, and that Misa will do literally anything for Light. It is also leading in to what will be the falling action... this fic is almost over!**

**Also, Backstreet Boys. XD Lawl.**


	47. Letters

**Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note or Oscar Wilde or his poem. **

**A/N: Sappy chapter is sappy.**

* * *

...Because when it had happened in real life, when L had died, his laptop hadn't been there.

I'd been wearing the same clothes for a while now and they were wrinkled from sleeping in them, but I ignored this fact and walked out of my room, actually looking less than my usual perfect. My dad would probably know where the laptop was, and I intended to ask him.

So I tracked him down. He was coming out of a small room- the room Ryuuzaki had dragged me around in for fear of the "storm," actually. When he saw me, he shut the door quickly, a nervous look on his face. Ah, so _that's_ where they were keeping his body.

"Light?"

I probably looked like Hell. My clothes aside, I didn't even remember the last time I had eaten, bathed, done my hair, or brushed my teeth. I probably smelled even worse than I looked.

But my dad never looked away from my eyes; his own were tearing up.

"Where is Ryuuzaki's laptop?" I asked without acknowledging him.

"Light, I want to talk to you."

"Where's his laptop?" I repeated.

"I'll get it for you in a moment. But we need to talk first."

I didn't need this. I certainly didn't _want_ this. But I knew my father, and I knew he _would_ speak to me whether I liked it or not. So I nodded. "What?"

"Light... about Ryuuzaki's suicide..."

"It wasn't suicide!" I exploded. "He lost his mind! He didn't _mean_ to do it!"

My dad nodded sympathetically, not understanding. "You knew him better than I did," he agreed. "But, Light, say, hypothetically, that he really _did_ commit suicide..."

I opened my mouth but my fury clogged my words in my throat.

"You have to know... it wasn't your fault." He could never know how wrong he was. "It was _his_ choice," my clueless father continued. "I'm sure he hid it from you- you know how well he could keep a secret. Don't tell yourself that you should have known, because sometimes you _can't_ tell. Not even when you love them."

I remembered with a jolt that my grandfather- my father's father- had suddenly committed suicide when my father was just fifteen years old.

He watched me earnestly, so I told him what he needed to hear. "I understand, Dad. He... he must have really been hurting. I'll be okay. He's happy now. I'm only sorry that..." I trailed off to let him fill in the blanks with whatever he wanted me to say. An old technique, but it never failed me.

I sounded false to my own ears, but my father believed every word, even that I believed L was happy now. He didn't know about Mu. He wouldn't believe it even if I told him, though- he was a faithful man, and he would never be able to accept that I wasn't. Not his perfect son.

He nodded, then motioned for me to wait, returning a moment later with a familiar piece of technology. My eyes stung at the sight of it.

He handed it to me and I held it like a treasure, which to me it was, and carried it to the bedroom, settling on the bed. There might be video of him (probably of the L and his distorted voice, but I'd take anything I could get). His stories might be on there. Maybe I'd be able to hear his voice in his writing style. He'd said he had other hobbies... I'd never asked him what they were. Maybe I'd get to figure them out.

As I turned the laptop on, I mentally prepared myself for the most difficult hack of my life. To my immense surprise, the device went straight to his desktop, the wallpaper an incredibly appropriate black, gothic L.

I stared at it blankly for a good minute, uncomprehending. No security? Was this really L's laptop?

There were also no icons on the screen. Except for, I noticed, a document file titled 'To Light.' That was all.

Suddenly afraid to open the letter, I scoured the whole computer for other things he may have left. No such luck- he had deleted everything except that letter. The letter was all he wanted me to see.

Slowly, slowly, I moved the mouse to the icon and clicked.

A document came up very quickly- it was a hardcore computer and now otherwise empty.

* * *

Light-

If you are reading this, I am dead.

As you may or may not have realized by this point, I removed the password protection on this laptop to allow you to read this letter. I do not know when you will find it. I write this to you as I sit on our bed and you sit at our windowsill because of the 85 percent probability that I will die in the next few days. If your observations about my erratic behavior are true, then there is a good chance I will accidentally or purposely harm myself.

I hold you to your promise that you will not try to turn the Death Note against yourself. Before I wrote this, I finalized everything and made it so that you will never be caught, assuming you do not confess. I beg you to take this chance.

I don't know how long I'll be "lucid," or if, after this, I'll ever be "lucid" again. From what you've described to me, I seem to be jumping around between fantasy, confusion, and actual memories. I believe it is because I killed B, which means that you were correct and that Ryuuzaki and L were the same.

I still do not, however, accept that Light and Kira are the same. I understand that this defies logic and that I am being inconsistent, but I don't care. I do not wish you to blame yourself for it. I chose to kill B when I could have killed you or myself. I do not regret it, and would repeat my actions without hesitation.

I know, though, that you will blame yourself, no matter what, because all of this can be traced back to your acquisition of the Death Note (which I say only because you already know it). It is useless for me to repeat that I don't want you to blame yourself, so I will not waste whatever time I have remaining to me. I will move on.

Light, I apologize. It may be the romantic side of me (which apparently _does_ exist, or may have come into existence because of you), but I know that dying was the worst thing I could have done to you. So I am sorry, and I beg your forgiveness.

Finally, I wish to express to you, one last time, how much I love you. Know that I have never said those words to anyone else. You have meant and always will mean more to me than anyone else. The following is Oscar Wilde's _Her Voice_. I hope my use of it, while admittedly melodramatic, requires no explanation.

"The wild bee reels from bough to bough  
With his furry coat and his gauzy wing,  
Now in a lily-cup, and now  
Setting a jacinth bell a-swing,

In his wandering.  
Sit closer love: it was here I trow  
I made that vow,

Swore that two lives should be like one  
as long as the sea-gull loved the sea,  
as long as the sunflower sought the sun,-  
"It shall be," I said, "for eternity  
'Twixt you and me!"  
Dear friend, those times are over and done;  
Love's web is spun.

Look upward where the poplar trees  
Sway and sway in the summer air,  
Here in the valley never a breeze  
Scatters the thistledown, but there  
Great winds blow fair  
From the mighty murmuring mystical seas,  
And the wave-lashed leas.

Look upward where the white gull screams,  
What does it see that we do not see?  
Is that a star? or the lamp that gleams  
On some outward voyaging argosy.  
Ah! can it be  
We have lived our lives in a land of dreams!  
How sad it seems.

Sweet, there is nothing left to say  
But this, that love is never lost.  
Keen winter stabs the breasts of May  
whose crimson roses burst his frost,  
Ships tempest-tossed  
Will find a harbour in some bay,  
And so we may.

And there is nothing left to do  
But to kiss once again, and part.  
Nay, there is nothing we should rue,  
I have my beauty,-you your Art.  
Nay, do not start.  
One world was not enough for two  
like me and you."

I memorized this piece in a rough equivalent of the third grade. I did not know that I would one day meet the other person in "one world was not enough for two/ Like me and you," because I did not know that there was anyone else like me. I believed and accepted that I would always be alone. Thank you for proving me wrong.

This letter will delete itself once you exit out of it, or one hour after it is opened, should you defiantly decide to never exit out of it. It will not cut, copy, paste, save, export, send, or print.

Light, if there is any way for me to remain with you when I am dead, I assure you that I will do so. If 'nothingness' turns out to be something after all, despite my skepticism in the matter, I will be with you.

I'll do anything in my power.

I will always love you.

-L Lawliet

* * *

I stared at the letter for a long time, at the blinking curser.

I read it once more, committing its intricacies to memory, and then turned the laptop off. I stood up stiffly, put the computer on what had once been his pillow, and exited the room.

I passed Matsuda in the hallway; exactly who I was looking for.

"Hey," I said. My voice was gravel.

"Hi, Light," he said gently.

"Have everyone meet at Yellow Box," I said at a monotone. "I need a night out."

A grin burst across his face. "Okay! Yeah! Sounds great, Light."

I walked away without another word, and I felt Matsuda's eyes on my back as I made my way to the Investigation Building's main entrance.

* * *

**"Against my will I stand beside my own reflection.**

**It's haunting how I can't seem to find myself again.**

**My walls are closing in."**

**-Crawling, Linkin Park**


	48. Beautiful Disaster

**Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note.**

* * *

**A/N: The lyrics at the end of the chapter are the reason this fic has this name (and why the previous chapters have lyrics at the end, which I don't usually do), although I had the idea before I first heard the song. Needless to say, when I then heard it, I was pretty pumped.**

**If you choose to look up the song, I was more thinking of the acoustic version than the techno version. Plus, the acoustic version has an additional verse.**

**This is the last chapter. 49 is an epilogue.**

* * *

I got to Yellow Box Warehouse early. There were a few darkly-clad teenagers loitering there, smoking pot or something stronger, stinking up the place, sitting in an inch of corrugated crud. I debated whether or not I should use the notebook to get rid of them, but decided against it. I would have to great creative as to how I collected their names. It was just too much effort, and I was tired... so tired...

Plus, "Mercy" didn't matter anymore.

As I shoo'd everyone out, I realized that I knew I was meeting Matsuda, Aizawa, Mogi, my father, and Ide, but I didn't remember inviting them. There was just L's letter, and then blackness.

I was too tired to cry. The letter had killed the last part of me, and I thanked L for this final gift. It didn't even hurt anymore, because there was nothing left in me that was capable of hurting. He killed me, just like I'd killed him. It was beautiful, really. I mean, how else could it have ended for the two of us? For Kira and for L. For Light and for Lawliet.

I stood patiently, still, just waiting, the beats of the industrial-strength fan in the wall the only sound in the dusty room. The sun was about to set, and the golden-red rays of light caught the dust in the air, turning it the color of blood.

The others arrived half an hour later, right on time.

"Hi!" Matsuda called cheerfully, holding a boom box. "Let's get this party started!"

My father and the others just looked uncomfortable, being in a teenage hangout at middle-age. Ide was looking around, obviously trying to figure out where everyone else was, then visibly relieved when he discovered that we were the only ones there.

I couldn't think of a reason to delay.

Without pleasantries, I removed the notebook from my suit jacket and held it up.

"Aw, I didn't know this was for _work_," Matsuda complained, pouting as he put down his speakers.

"It's not," I replied simply.

Ever a police officer, my father took a step forward when I produced such a deadly weapon. Somehow he knew he should be alarmed, although he didn't seem to understand why. Or, he _thought _he knew, and had it wrong.

Because if he had known, he sure as Hell wouldn't have been walking towards me.

"Light..." he said warningly, holding up both hands, palms out.

He thought I was going to write my own name, but no. L had made me promise not to turn the Death Note against myself.

"I'm not going to write my name, Dad," I said calmly. "But you should know- you all have two minutes to live."

"W-what?" Mogi sputtered, reeling backwards.

"Your arrival couldn't have been timed more perfectly," I continued generously. "You arrived here only minutes before the time I appointed for your death in the notebook."

Aizawa, who I had never liked anyway, pulled out his gun, but as it always seemed to be whether I wanted it or not, Fate was on my side. It was perfect; the moment he did it, he dropped and clutched his left arm, swearing as he went down.

A few moments later, so did my father, Mogi, and Ide. As my father collapsed, he looked up at me, his eyes huge and hurt.

"I should have known, Light," he whispered.

"Yeah, you should have," I agreed, possibly more coldly than was entirely necessary.

"I'm sorry," he gasped.

I couldn't reply to that, but luckily Ryuk, floating around me as always, laughed. "A fine Shinigami."

Matsuda was left standing, staring in horror at the nightmare of bodies around him. All his comrades. People he had spent endless hours with, getting yelled at by, trying to help. As the first intelligent action of his life, he did not freak out.

"Why am I not dead, too?" he said through clenched teeth, his voice shaking, tears streaming, hands in fists at his sides. "All of it... Your _father_...? Light... I never knew my father... and you kill yours without so much as a thought!"

I didn't answer his questions. Instead, I forced myself to smile and said, "Any _other _questions, Matsuda?"

"So you really are... him?" he whispered.

I threw back my head and laughed at the ceiling, hysterical, insane. I sounded like a madman and I was aware of that, but I couldn't care less. Finally. I didn't have to live anymore. All I could feel was relief.

"Yes. I am Kira," I sighed my laugh to a stop then looked at him, almost smiling. "I'm Kira."

I heard him sob.

He fired six times.

Pain seared through my chest, endlessly worse than what B had done to me (and L, once). I felt the pain before I even heard the shots, and the next thing I knew he was coming at me, gun raised, tears frozen in place. He pointed the gun at my chin and I closed my eyes. Finally. Finally. Here I come, L. Even if I wasn't with him wherever I ended up, at least I would be with him in _not existing_. I couldn't, without him. Not anymore. No more.

Another shot, but for some reason I wasn't dead. I opened my eyes a slit, barely able to see, to find him standing over me.

"I won't stoop to your level," he croaked, stiffly lowering his weapon. "If... if we get you to a hospital, you'll survive, Li- Kira."

Shaking hard, he holstered the gun. "Stand up."

I did, with effort. But survive? Not an option. Surviving was not part of the plan, and ideally my dying wouldn't be done _here._ So I took off running.

Perhaps knowing that I would die anyway, he didn't follow me. I saw him hit his knees and his face hit his hands. I wanted to tell him how I was sorry, explain how I had changed, but I didn't have the breath to spare. I would never know if he heard me, but I managed to gasp, "Thank you."

The door was difficult enough to open on a good day, and now I was losing blood fast, and strength was pouring from my system. I tripped, caught myself, kept going. I was running with the single-mindedness of a man with minutes to live, and not even gravity was going to stop me. I wouldn't allow myself to die until I made it to the warehouse... where L had, for all intents and purposes, died... where I _should_ have died _with _him...

Matsuda still wasn't following me, but I was leaving a pretty decent trail of blood and he'd find me sooner or later. I wondered if he'd tell my mother and Sayu that I was Kira. That I had killed my father and my team members in order to piss off Matsuda enough to make him shoot me. He probably wouldn't have time, as he was scheduled to have a heart attack in one hour. He wouldn't have to live with what he'd done for long. I couldn't ask him to- I knew what it was like, and I wouldn't wish it on anymore.

_(Not even B. Not even C. Not even Kira.)_

There. Where Ryuuzaki as I had known him had been lost. Where he should have killed _me _instead of B. Where it had all gone wrong, as if it weren't a disaster from the start. I would die there. Make at least one thing the way it should have been.

I collapsed on the steps, using my last bit of strength to roll onto my back so I would bleed faster from my stitches ripping open. I was past the point of pain. It no longer mattered except as a means to an end.

And then there he was.

L.

He was there, and so much clearer than he had been when my eyes were closed in the cab. And it wasn't Misa or Matsuda or the worshipper, it was him. It was really him.

I mean, it was a hallucination, but it was _him_.

He walked over to me, weightless, and sat down next to me on a step. Gently, he lifted my head and placed it on his lap.

"L?" I forced out. I coughed blood onto my chin.

He nodded and wiped away the liquid. Then he ran his fingers though my hair, and I could feel it as if it were real.

"I'm sorry," I whispered.

We stayed like that for a relatively long time, me gasping and whimpering and holding out as long as I could. Because L was here, now, and after I was gone he never would be again.

Finally, he leaned down and kissed me on the forehead. "It's time to go, Light."

I reached out and touched his face. It didn't disappear, and my fingers felt as if I was meeting flesh.

Maybe he _would_ be on the other side. Maybe there _was _another side, and I'd get to be with him. Maybe this wasn't the last time... maybe there was still hope...

I nodded painfully and he graced me with his gentlest smile, my favorite. His big, dark, beautiful eyes gleamed in the sunset, and I had never loved him more than I did in that moment.

"Okay," I whispered.

I felt my chest constrict. Ryuk must have written my name.

I felt my left arm go numb.

I felt my brain slow down.

I felt L's hands, stroking my hair.

And then I felt...

Nothing.

* * *

**L's POV**

I stared as the body of my beautiful, beautiful creature went limp, and as the light (Light) left his beloved sepia eyes. As some essential component left his body and his head became a dead weight on my thigh. As his eyes closed and, this time, did not reopen.

I squeezed my metaphysical eyes shut and clenched my fingers in his hair, but as before those few moments, they simply went through him. Light was gone.

I didn't know what would happen now, and that was what scared me. Would he pass and I remain? Would we both cease to exist, now that the reason I had for staying was no longer? Was there a Heaven or a Hell, or was it nothing, an end of consciousness, as I had always believed? And even if there _was_ a Heaven and Hell, would we be welcomed into either, having used the Death Note? Even if we would, would Heaven take us, with everything _else _we had done in our lives?

Would we be allowed to go to the same place?

Uncertainty was never something I had been comfortable with, or accustomed to, and I had spent a great deal of my life in an effort to avoid it.

My eyes opened and were drawn once again to the body of the one I loved (the one I _love_, the one I always _would _love...) where he lay motionless. Silent, as my body still probably was, somewhere in the Investigation Building.

I hadn't wanted to be human. As I told Light, I had spent twenty-five years striving to be just the letter, the L, and nothing more. C, however, knew me too well, because he had known B, and stated the truth. I could ignore all the physical demandings of my body as much as I liked, but they were still there and had, ultimately, to be alleviated. I _had_ to sleep eventually. I _had _to eat. I reduced it all to a bare minimum, but in the end it didn't matter.

The very fact that I had _wanted_ to not be human _made _me human.

And as if that were not enough, I did the most human thing of all- I loved.

He was the most beautiful creature on this Earth, shattered and twisted and demented and beautiful, and I loved him.

And it had led to my death.

But...

There is no other way that it could have happened. How else should I have been destroyed, but through a fault of my own? My Justice was impure, and thus I did not survive. That is fair, and that is right.

There was something about him, something I would never be able to explain, that turned my world upside down. Perhaps it was because he was my equal and my opposite.

And really, were we that opposite? What was the difference between Kira and L, in the end? Both entirely obsessed with what we had arbitrarily deemed 'Justice.' Neither _actually _concerned, originally, with doing what was right... simply with alleviating the boredom that comes from being as dangerously intelligent as we both were. Each equally obsessed with the other. Neither of us ever fully, or even largely, understood by people who claimed to love us, except for each other. Both such sociopaths that we would do whatever it took to get what we wanted. Both monsters.

Perhaps it was narcissistic, then, that I loved him.

I was surprised, the moment I realized it. My entire life, I had gone out of my way to distance myself from everyone I could. I failed on only a few accounts: Watari, Matt, Mello, and Near. But they were well-protected, and I knew no harm would come to them because of me. Obviously, that did not turn out the way I'd intended.

I tried to touch the lifeless Light's face, still watching him. Nothing.

I didn't know how I was allowed to stay with him, but I suspected, for some reason, the handcuffs. They had bound us together in far more ways than I had ever expected them to. I'd thought it was an interrogation technique, something that would lead me to the conviction of my suspect and bring about the end of the case. It had indeed ended the case, but only because we were human and both died for it.

Or maybe, when you love someone more than anything in the world, more than any_one _in the world, more than any object, any ideal, more even than God, then maybe you are allowed to stay to see the end of their life. Maybe you are given the chance to remain with them, to walk with them into the afterlife, if there is something beyond this.

Kira and L. Both men are dead, but their ideas- and their _ideals_- live on. Someone will take Kira's place, and someone will take mine. The battle between good and evil- if there are such things, and whichever of us was which- will continue without our presence. Perhaps the next time around, fewer people will have to die to make that happen. Perhaps Matt will pull himself together and battle the next owner of the Death Note, although if Light's reaction to my death is anything to go by, it will not be Matt that takes my place.

Now, in death, Light and Kira and Ryuuzaki and L really _were _separate entities, like I had fought so hard to make Light- and myself- believe. I was only Lawliet, and he was only Light, and it didn't matter. It wasn't our responsibility anymore. I didn't have to _think_ anymore. I didn't have to always be watching, always be suspecting, always be ready. I didn't have to deprive myself of the basic human needs. I could be something I had never been, and something I never _would _have been if I had never put those handcuffs on.

Normal. Human.

When I had bound us together, I could never have imagined that I would end up _loving _him, and destroying everything. I don't regret it.

And now he was gone, and that beautiful heart was silent, and the world would have no more of the twisted, demented, beautiful creature that I loved more than anything.

I put my hand on his chest, where before I would have been able to feel his heartbeat.

I jumped when Light Yagami opened his eyes.

"Ryuuzaki?" he whispered.

For a moment, I could only stare at him, but soon I seized his hand and helped him off the floor.

He was solid. He didn't appear translucent. Frantically, I pulled him into my arms.

"Light."

"Ryuuzaki... Where are we?"

"I do not know."

"What-"

"I don't know that either."

"How are-"

"At this point, you know as much about the situation as I do."

He tightened his arms around me and I held him even closer. Nothing was going to tear us apart again, if I had anything to say about it.

"How long have you... been here?" he asked finally.

"Since I died. If you recall, Light, I did promise to be with you were it possible."

"You also said you doubted it would be possible."

"True."

"So you saw...?"

"Everything. The notebook. Mikami. Misa. Yes."

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

"It hardly matters."

I did not want to go, didn't want to lose him again or even take the chance that I _might_. I wanted to stay right there forever, as long as he was there, and never move, but something was tugging at me, deep inside, and I knew that Light could feel it too.

"We have to go," he mumbled.

"No," I said stubbornly.

He pulled back a very small amount and held my face in both hands.

"Believe me," he said intensely, looking me in the eye _(those sepia eyes that I loved, that hid so much and said so much and...)_"I don't want to go either."

I nodded. I took his hand, linking the fingers of the wrists that bore our handcuff scars.

And he began, like any good Shinigami, to turn to sand.

I glanced down at my own manifestation and I was shedding sand, as well. I had used the Death Note too, after all.

I looked back up at him and squeezed his hand, and he squeezed back. He lost color, lost consistency, lost thickness. Slowly, slowly, his edges became less defined as particles of him slipped away, like dry sand in the wind is blown from a damp sand castle.

He had no face now, and I knew that I didn't either. "Goodbye," he mumbled. It was like a sigh, like a rustle.

"Do not say goodbye," I replied firmly. "It implies permanence. There is still a chance..."

I never finished that sentence. He had no eyes, but the look he gave me, the tilt of his head, said it all: he didn't believe that.

Gaps appeared where the sand had thinned all the way through, and as he evaporated, and as I disappeared as well, he squeezed my hand tighter and tighter. The sensation became less and less. He was barely a pile now, and I knew I was the same but I couldn't look away from him for long enough to check. Not in my last moments with him.

As if in a final gust of wind, the last grains of Light Yagami disappeared. Perhaps I imagined it in my last desperate moments, but I was sure I heard him breathe, _Goodbye, Lawliet._

And so, just in case, on the off-chance that he could hear me, I whispered a returning sentiment.

_Goodbye, Light._

* * *

**"He drowns in his dreams, an exquisite extreme, I know.  
**

**He's as damned as he seems and more Heaven than a heart could hold.  
**

**And if I try to save him, my whole world could cave in.  
**

**It just ain't right, no it just ain't right.**

**He's magic and myth, as strong as what I believe.  
**

**A tragedy with more damage than a soul should see.  
**

**And do I try to change him? So hard not to blame him.  
**

**Hold on tight... baby hold on tight.**

**I'm longing for love and the logical, but he's only happy hysterical.  
**

**I'm searching for some kind of miracle, waited so long.  
**

**I've waited so long.**

**He's soft to the touch, but, frayed at the end, he breaks.  
**

**He's never enough, and still he's more than I can take.**

**Oh 'cause I don't know, I don't know what he's after.  
**

**But he's so beautiful, such a beautiful disaster.  
**

**And if I could hold on through the tears and the laughter,  
**

**Would it be beautiful? Or just a beautiful disaster?**

**He's beautiful. Oh he's so beautiful...**

**He's beautiful."**

**-Beautiful Disaster, Kelly Clarkson**


	49. Epilogue

**Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note.**

* * *

When I opened my eyes, I was alone. There was no L. About that, I wasn't in the least surprised. He didn't belong in Hell.

Which is where I had to be, right? Because I was clearly _somewhere_, so I hadn't just ceased to exist. Surely this wasn't Heaven. What alternative did that leave?

Also, it was dark. Darker than anything I had ever known, and I had once been in a cave where they turned the lights out.

As the darkness pressed in around me, I found that I was able to sit down, and so I sat.

It could have been years that I sat there, but I never felt hungry or thirsty or hot or cold or tired.

So maybe it _was_ Nothingness, except that the souls didn't turn into it, we just went to it. Nothing to do, nothing to see or hear or feel... an eternity to think. Alone. In the dark.

Then, suddenly, a white piece of paper fluttered down, directly onto my hands. It was the first thing I had seen in an unmarked amount of time, and ignoring the physics of needing light to see, it almost hurt my eyes.

There were Japanese words on the piece of paper.

_"You really messed up, didn't you?"_

Curiously, I looked up in the direction from which the paper had fallen, but as before there was only darkness. Where had it come from?

I looked down at the paper again, and it seemed to have more words than it'd had before, although I wasn't sure they hadn't been there before.

_"What do you have to say for yourself?"_

Was I supposed to answer that out loud? Was I supposed to write something down? Although, actually, I'd had enough of writing on objects that fall from the sky for this lifetime.

"I..." I stopped.

No. There was no justification for what I had done. There's no reason, _no _reason, to kill so many thousands of people. Not to make the world a better place. Not as a mercy. Not because I was fucking _bored._

"Nothing," I said finally. "I have nothing to say. I can't justify what I did."

The paper definitely had more words now. Probably. Or had I just not noticed the next few lines, before?

_"You could have changed the world without the Death Note. You could have met L Lawliet some other way, and __joined__ him. If you two had worked together, you could have done what you did without killing so many people."_

I was silent.

_"Do you understand?" _suddenly appeared on the page. What was the deal with this thing?

"Yes," I whispered to no one.

_"You'll return, uncontrolled, to the moment before you turned around to go back for the notebook. You'll have all your memories of your previous life until you walk away. If you pick it up, you will retain the memories."_

"Wait, what? I'm going back?"

_"Choose well, Light Yagami."_

_So it wasn't optional,_ I realized as the world I remembered slowly painted itself into existence around me.

As the voice had said- there I stood.

In the yard of my high school, in front of that little black notebook. That damn notebook, that had given me the power to do so many terrible things. So many things that had _seemed_ right...

But it wasn't about the power anymore, or fixing the world, if I had ever really believed in that. If I walked away from the Death Note now, I'd forget all of it. I'd go back, truly, to being Light Yagami, high school student extraordinaire, about to get accepted to the best University in Japan with perfect scores on my entrance exams without studying.

And I'd forget Ryuuzaki. With him gone, my memories of him were all I had left.

I realized with a jolt that he was alive in this world. This time around. I knew Ryuuzaki's name- maybe I could track him down... we could fall in love again. I knew where Wammy's House was. I wouldn't have to _use_ the notebook, just hold it. The addiction wasn't so bad; I could deal with it. As an added bonus, picking it up would prevent anyone _else_ from getting it...

I took a step toward the notebook. I didn't want to forget him. According to the paper, if I picked up the Death Note, I wouldn't lose my memories of the first time around. I could do it all again, but do it _right_.

He and I had speculated about it once. Whether or not we would have met, let alone have fallen in love, if I hadn't been Kira. He said it was possible...

But it wasn't a guarantee. As sure as I was that he would be in my life no matter what life I chose, there was no guarantee. If I didn't pick up the notebook, I may not end up even joining the Investigation. Assuming, that is, that someone else picked it up and went Kira with it as effectively as I had, causing there to _be_ a Kira Investigation Team and a need to call in The Great and Powerful L...

But I could pick it up, not use it, and find him.

Except for one very simple fact: I didn't have any self-control when it came to the Death Note. I didn't know what I would do, and I _wasn't_ stronger than it.

So... I could pick it up, remember Ryuuzaki, find him, and hope for the best in relation to tens of thousands of lives, or I could walk away. I could back away, forget it all. Forget him. Maybe never even _meet_ him.

I turned around slowly, my back to the notebook that had caused so much... _shit_.

Yes, I loved Ryuuzaki. More than anything.

And because of that, I couldn't pick it up and risk doing it all again. Killing him again.

Even if we never met this time around, he'd be out there. I wouldn't remember, but that would be okay. He'd live a full life, solving cases left and right. Maybe he'd find someone to love, who loved him as much as I did. Maybe it would be a woman, and he'd have a family...

Just... happiness. I wanted the one I loved to be happy. That wasn't a crime _anywhere._

And so I would forget, and hope that I'd still meet him, somehow.

I took a step away from the notebook and immediately got a headache. It was incredibly strange, feeling myself forgetting. Feeling my head empty out a bit.

Trying to remember what I had forgotten, I realized that I didn't remember the date on which I had found the notebook. That day's date, incidentally.

I took another step, feeling my mind lighten even more. I found I could stand up straighter.

Another step, more facts sliding from my mind. I was forgetting faster and faster. I started to repeat some things to myself, things that would be important to remember to prevent another disaster like all of this had been.

_Kira. Death Note. Ryuk. Rem. Eyes. Misa. Ryuuzaki._

Another step.

_Kira. Death Note. Ryuk. Eyes. Misa. Ryuuzaki._

Another.

_Kira. Death Note. Ryuk. Eyes. Ryuuzaki._

Another.

_Kira. Death Note. Ryuk. Ryuuzaki._

I was walking faster now, afraid that I'd give in and go back. It was a terrifying thing, knowing I was forgetting, when so much of my life had revolved around my mind and my perfect memory.

But I took another step.

_Kira. Death Note. Ryuuzaki._

_Death Note. Ryuuzaki._

_Ryuuzaki._

_Now_ I paused. This was my last chance to turn around. I knew I had to keep walking, but I wasn't positive why. But I knew about Ryuuzaki, and I knew that he could die if I didn't move forward, so I started repeating things about him to myself. I wanted to hold onto him as long as I could, even if I wasn't sure why.

_Eyes. Smile. Love. Sex. Brilliance. Quirks._

I walked on.

_Eyes. Love. Sex. Brilliance. Quirks._

I forced myself to keep going. I knew my mental checklist was diminishing, and there was a blur on my mind's image of his lips. I must have forgotten his lips. Had I loved his lips?

_Eyes. Love. Brilliance. Quirks_.

Heavy feet, like cement.

_Love. Brilliance. Quirks._

I was losing him, piece by piece. Again. At least, I was _pretty_ sure it was again.

_Love. Brilliance._

I knew I loved him, I knew he was a genius, I knew I was_ missing _a lot of the things that made him, him. But I still _remembered_ him... remembered who he was and the fact that I felt about him more strongly than anyone...

_Love._

After this, I may lose him forever.

I took a deep breath and kept walking.

...Where was I going? I blinked and looked around, disoriented for some reason. I was somewhere I'd never been, as far as I knew. Was I supposed to be meeting a girl (or, you know, a guy, which would explain why I was so far away from where my father might see me) or something? How had I gotten here? Was I far away from home? I didn't have a lot of money on me, not enough for a long train ride, at least...

I shook my head. That's right. I had been going to visit the University I was studying to get into. I kind of wished I remembered what I had been thinking about that could make me forget such a thing- it must have been fascinating, because I was _totally_ bewildered for a moment.

Inwardly laughing it off, I adjusted my direction and found that I was actually quite close to my destination.

I stared up at the huge building in a mix of confidence, excitement, and hope. This was the hardest college in the country. It was possible... _possible_... that it might be hard enough for me. What I wanted more than anything else was a challenge, and if _this_ school couldn't provide it... Well, I'd probably lose my mind with boredom. Maybe there would be other people there up to my intellectual level. Someone to have a real conversation with. I mean, I loved my family and everything, but they certainly weren't up to my level.

Feeling unstoppable, I strode to the campus coffee shop, right next to the tennis court, where I would be able to see the college. There was something appealing about the thought of sipping black coffee and looking up at the place that may or may not change my life. Give me something to live for, instead of just... living.

I forced that thought out of my head. I didn't need to go down that road again. Whenever I let my mind wander there, I ended up with a date, thinking that maybe _they'd_ be able to distract me for a while. It always got messy because they tended to actually like, and I didn't need any drama right before entrance exams. Not that I intended to study at all. But my parents needed to _think_ I did. What would they do if they knew how smart I _really_ was?

I thought about this as I made my way to the back of the coffee shop. The walls were all windows there, and it faced the school. I wondered if they did that on purpose. The thought boosted my expectations slightly: maybe it was as symbolic to other people as it was to me. If people had gone out of their way to build a spot that made possible the pastime of gazing at the school longingly, then there had to be other people like me, right?

A little voice- the voice in me that was always right and knew it- told me to push my hopes right back down.

I noticed suddenly that there was someone already sitting at the table I'd been heading for. As I approached, I saw that he was terribly sloppy, and the obsessive-compulsive part of me had a small seizure. I repressed it and, for some reason I couldn't imagine, slid into the booth, facing the stranger. He didn't look up at me.

"Um... hey," I said awkwardly. Awkwardly? Since when was Light Yagami awkward? Never.

He was putting sugar cubes into a cup of coffee, three at a time, hunched over it like it was incomparably important to him. I nearly had a heart attack when he actually took a sip of what must have been a coffee- flavored sugar paste. I half expected him to go into insulin shock and hit the floor convulsing, but he appeared unphased, at least what I could see of him.

Oh, but he was watching me through that black mop of hair. Clever. Was he a student here?

As if reading my mind, or reading _me_, he looked up. I was caught off-guard by his eyes. They were darker and deeper than I had ever seen on any person before, and strangely... blank. 'Unreadable' might be a better description, because he clearly didn't appear thoughtless.

From the slight downward curve of his lips, however, I could tell that he had been sitting there, frowning at his coffee and his surroundings, for a long time.

He blinked and a thought shot through my mind, or really more of a syllable. "Re...?" I said it aloud for reasons I didn't understand, but when I did his head jerked up all the way and he stared at me. His dark eyes burned into me, and it was like he could see straight through my skin. Something about that gaze was familiar, but I knew for a fact that no one had ever looked at me that way before.

I almost shied away from the dissecting stare, but I reminded myself that I wasn't a coward and held his gaze. Besides, it was impossible that he really _could_ see into me. My defenses were impenetrable. My own parents couldn't tell when something was wrong or how I truly felt about something, so how could a stranger?

So I stared right back at him and waited for him to say something in response.

"Hello," he replied finally, bottomless eyes searching. His frown deepened.

"Not to intrude," I said in my most charming and polite voice, "but you appear to be upset about something."

He looked surprised that I could tell that something was wrong. He was like me, then- a fantastic actor with something to hide and a face that people couldn't read. Maybe he _could_ see through me, then.

"Yes, I..." He paused, obviously unfamiliar with not instantly knowing how to respond. "I came here about twenty minutes ago, certain that I had left something behind. But I don't remember coming here in the first place, which is certainly a prerequisite for leaving something behind. And, generally speaking, I do not carry anything around with me." He stopped and frowned again, annoyed, I could tell, that he had just told me all of that.

I laughed at his expression. "Don't worry, I'm not a serial killer. And that hardly counts as personal information."

He looked at me for a long moment, then decided I was telling the truth. "How did you know my name?" he asked after a good minute where we just stared at each other. He seemed to be as fascinated by me as I was by him.

"I..." That caught me off-guard. "I didn't. I just had the syllable 'Re' stuck in my head when I saw you. I don't even know why I sat down. I-" I was rambling. I stopped myself and shrugged. Let him fill in the blank with whatever he wanted me to say.

But he kept staring at me. "You, what?"

"I... just sat. Is your name Rei?"

"Ryuuzaki," he said, bringing his thumb to his mouth to chew on his fingernail.

"I'm applying to this school," I informed him suddenly. "Are you a student here?"

"No." He tugged on his bottom lip, thoughtful, looking at me. "But I believe that I will apply as well," he said, the thought obviously having just occurred to him.

For reasons I didn't understand, this made me immensely excited. "Hey, we might have a class together," I said, friendly and controlled again.

"Yes..."

"Yagami."

He perked up a bit, if 'perked up' was a good word for slouching slightly less in his seat. I noticed then that his legs were pulled up to his chest. Weirdo. "Are you familiar with a Soichiro Yagami?" he asked politely.

"Very. He's my father. Do you know him?"

"I know _of_ him. One could say that I work with the police."

"Oh, the NPA? I've helped them solve a few cases in the past. In fact, I'm studying to become a police officer. Are you a detective?"

He smiled, as if at some inside joke. "Yes, I am."

That explained a lot about his appearance, actually. He was somehow both forgettable and memorable- like you would never notice him just walking by, but if you talked to him you'd never get him out of your head.

"I have heard stories about you," he said monotonously. "The cases you solved- you didn't _help_ the police solve them, you solved them yourself. They were cases that the NPA could not solve. Not child's play. You did not volunteer- they _resorted_ to you."

I smiled in a way that I hoped came across as mysterious. "You're right."

Suddenly he said, "Would you be opposed to participating in a simple test of your deductive reasoning abilities? It requires only conversation. We would not have to leave this cafe- we could get cake."

"I don't care for cake," I replied warily (he stared at me like I was a madman), "but I'd love to take the test, and you're free to get cake even if I don't."

"Very well," he said agreeably.

He ordered himself a slice of strawberry cake. As the waitress walked away, he returned his attention to me.

"Light-kun. I place before you a note, many years old, that was found near the body of a dead man. What do you make of it?"

He put the piece of paper in front of me, then withdrew both hands and placed them on his knees. He watched me closely.

I looked intently at the paper, letting my mind whirr. It was a normal scrap of paper, torn at the bottom, no signs of blood or anything else on it. It read, very simply, 'A does not equal L,' except, I noted, that the 'does not equal' was the mathematical symbol.

"Is this the complete note? The tear-away, I mean. Did you remove it or was it found this way?"

"This is the way it was found," he supplied without hesitation.

I looked at the note again. It was clear to me, but I gave myself some time to come up with an alternate idea. When my brain presented nothing, I answered.

"It's a suicide note," I said simply.

He leaned forward a bit. "Interesting. By what logic?"

"It's fairly straightforward." I pointed at the 'A,' and then the 'L.' "I think these are abbreviations for names. I think this person, either 'A' or 'L,' was tired of being compared to the other. I'm gonna go ahead and say that 'L' is the dead man- if he was depressed enough to kill himself, he would probably put his name second. They may have been twins, although suicide might be a bit of an extreme reaction to that. Anyway, 'L' was either in a hurry, very into math, or both, because he used the 'does not equal' sign instead of simply writing 'I am not A.'"

"Very good, Light-kun," he mumbled, taking the note back and shoving it unceremoniously into his pocket. "You were correct about a greater portion of that than one could expect you to be."

I leaned back in my seat, smug. "Thank you, Ryuuzaki." Then it occurred to me. "But not all of it?"

"No," he said with a small, approving smile. "Not all of it."

His beautiful dark eyes made my breath catch in my throat, and I had to look away or I would blush.

"Hey, um," I said, awkward again. "There's a tennis court. Right outside here. Do you play?"

"I do."

"It's a challenge then," I said solemnly. "A challenge which I will win."

"We shall see," he said sagely, endless eyes glinting.

For a moment I worried what I had gotten myself into.

"Well, you can finish your cake and then..." I looked at his plate and it was already gone. The test hadn't been that long- he must have eaten it extremely quickly while I was distracted.

"I am already finished," he said cheerfully, and climbed out of his seat.

I followed him to the tennis court. Neither of us had tennis-appropriate shoes or clothes, so I just took off my school uniform jacket and draped it over a bench. Normally that would have appalled me, but today, for whatever reason, it didn't even occur to me to freak out about it. I rolled up my sleeves and rented two tennis rackets from a man behind a counter. I passed one to Ryuuzaki, who accepted it with two long, pale fingers.

He was much better at the sport than I expected, which I discovered as he returned my serve, sending the ball slamming into the court without any sign of effort. It bounced wildly but I managed to continue the game without getting my face smashed in.

"Light-kun," he said a few minutes later as he bounced the ball, preparing for his own serve. "That scar on your right wrist. Tell me about it, if you would."

It took me a moment to realize what he was talking about. I was so used to it that I didn't even think about it anymore. "I've had it as long as I can remember," I replied, returning the serve with a grunt of effort. "Unfortunately, there's no story behind it."

"That is interesting, Light-kun. I have a matching scar on my left wrist."

"How'd you get it?"

"I suppose I was born with it," he answered, monotone again.

I scored on him for the second time. I probably would have won, too, had I not lost my balance, slipped, and fallen on my knee.

"Dammit!" I cursed, limping over to the bench where I had tossed my jacket. My uniform pants were destroyed, and I rolled them up to assess the damage to my skin. It was going to be a very nasty bruise, and it was also cut down the center of the already blackening area. "Ow!" I accused no one in particular.

"Are you all right, Light-kun?" he asked, calmly coming towards me.

"Yeah," I said, annoyed. "But I banged my knee. Let me sit out for a minute until it stops throbbing and bleeding."

He fished around in his apparently endless pockets, producing a Band-Aid. He removed the little slips of backing and placed them carelessly on the bench next to me. Awkwardly, without asking, he kneeled down in front of me and adhered the bandage to my knee.

Then he leaned down to kiss it.

"What are you doing?" I demanded, pulling my knee away, succeeding only in hurting myself more.

He looked up at me blankly through his hair, then straightened up ("straight" being a relative term- he straightened up into a slouch). "Is that not customary? I have never put a bandage on another person before, but I have been told that it is customary to 'kiss it better' once one has done so."

Any other day, that would have creeped me out, and most likely would have pissed me off, too.

That day was not any other day.

I don't know what made that day different, but that day, I grabbed him by his baggy, white shirt. That day, I stood up, not letting him move when he tried to step back. That day, I took his face in both my hands and pressed my lips to his.

And that day, for the first time in my life, I felt... normal. Like a normal person. Not lonely, not bored, not empty. This was right, this was what I was supposed to be doing, and this was strangely, tantalizingly familiar, and I understood with a strange misty remembrance that I'd never really know why.

And that day, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, Ryuuzaki didn't pull away.

_Save me._

_I will._


End file.
